The Quintessential Mission
by The Gaming Ghost
Summary: Rachel learns more about herself than she ever cared to know. Can she handle the truth about herself?  M for language
1. Chapter 1

**The Quintessential Mission**

**Prologue**

The crisp mountain air gave filled the young commando's lungs, as she nibbled on her rations. It was going to be a great day. The weather was cool, the forest picturesque, and, if all went well, she'd kill someone just after lunch. She finished her snack, shouldered her rucksack, and made her way through the trees.

Birds chirped and woodland animals darted through the foliage, going about whatever business they had at that time of day. The Special Forces operative walked at a steady, yet cautious pace. Her destination was a bunker that was reported to be in the area. Her target: a well known enemy of her homeland. Her mission: to remove said enemy. It was left to her discretion whether she brought him back alive, or dealt with him on the spot. It wouldn't take too many guesses for a person to guess her choice, given her predatory smile. This is what she lived for; what she was born and bred to do. She lived to hunt, and her game was the most dangerous prey in the world.

As she made her way to the given coordinates of the facility, she took note of any possibly landmarks she could: a deformed tree, a beaver damn, a large rock, anything to use as a point of reference. She was all alone: only her training, her wits, and god given talent to rely on. The commando didn't mind too much: solo missions weren't out of the ordinary for her. In some ways, she preferred the solitude and freedom of pursuing objectives herself. Her teammates were first class, and she'd be hard pressed to find anything to complain about. Still, it was nice to be left to your own devices now and then. It kept the mind sharp and tempered one's resolve.

Hours seemed to pass with just the forest and her own thoughts as travel companions before her sharp eye spotted a sentry far ahead of her. She dropped to a knee and readied her side arm. "Lumberjack calling Roadrunner." She whispered into her radio headset. "Lumberjack calling Roadrunner, over."

"I read you, Lumberjack."

"I have visual contact with hostiles. I say again, I have visual contact with hostiles, over."

"Acknowledged, Lumberjack."

"I suspect the objective is close. It shouldn't be too much longer, over.

"Understood, Lumberjack. It shouldn't be too much longer, out."

She disabled her radio, and slowly advanced: brandishing a handgun and a grin. The hunt had finally begun.

**Chapter 1**

Rachel sat quietly at her office computer in the evening, looking over the latest progress reports of Omega Land's environmental progress. It had only been a year, and already the ravaged country sides of the continent were returning to the lush and fertile landscapes they had once been. Since things had quieted down, the young CO had often found herself bored. Fighting Von Bolt had been taxing, exhausting, stressful, yet she missed the ups and downs the war had brought. Her work with overseeing the reconstruction effort was in many ways more important than the fighting, but at least _things happened_ when she fought.

Right now, all her training and experience was going into babysitting a group of tree-hugging eggheads, all of which jockeying for grant money, competing for her approval, shoving requisition form after requisition form in her mail box, and generally bickering over who's approach was best. Spending hours calculating the next move in a game of chess played on a minefield with the pieces carrying live grenades was nothing compared to mediating the intellectual chest thumping that came with life-long experts in environmental studies with PhD's to flex.

She didn't understand why, but this assignment just didn't satisfy her. The pay was excellent, the job was a joke, and she sat in a comfortable ergonomic chair, and played solitaire on her computer for the many hours that she didn't have reports to review or paperwork to sign. Tag on a few federal health and retirement benefits, and you had a job thousands would sell their firstborn son for. Still, there was that nagging feeling that she couldn't shake. It was like a hunger: no matter how she tried to ignore it, it wouldn't go away.

She leaned back in her chair and looked out her window at the lush forests surrounding Orange Star's Omega Land HQ. The mammoth vibrant trees that filled the landscape had been spared the fate that strangled much of the rest of the ecosystem. She smiled at the pure, untainted forest: untouched by Black Hole's obelisks, and spared from serving as a battlefield the site chosen for her base of operations was nothing sort of a miracle. Still, it was both a curse and a blessing. Though in pristine condition, not a day went by that Rachel didn't want to be out of this office and back in the field. She didn't want to watch the world. She wanted to be out in it.

She sipped some coffee and stretched. Her computer's clock read 6 PM. Time for her to go home, grab something to eat, maybe go for a jog through the woods. As she got up, she dug her smart phone out of her pocket and checked her text messages.

"U off work? ~Jake"

Rachel let out a sigh. She got a long with Jake well enough, and had really grown to like him during the war. Still, there were times she felt like being around him and times she didn't. This was one of those times that she just wanted to have some alone time. She knew it wouldn't be that easy, though.

"Going home." She typed.

"O. Want company?" came the reply.

"No."

"Sumthing wrong?"

"Just tired."

"K. Call if u want 2 talk"

Rachel put her phone back in her pocket. She felt bad. Jake seemed to be pretty serious about his relationship with her, and Rachel definitely had feelings for him to. Still, she was hesitant to enter a long term relationship. The young CO wasn't sure why. Was it cold feet? Or perhaps some nagging doubts? Or did she just not like him "that way?"

_But how do I like him? Is he just a friend? A colleague? We've grown close over the course of our careers, but I still have trouble seeing him as something more._

It was difficult for her to explain or understand, and perhaps she shouldn't try to. _I care for him but…_

…_but…_

There was. She cared for him, "but." No matter how oft she told herself she liked him, cared for him, possibly even loved him, that one word always slipped in. It was automatic, as though her brain was incapable of saying that one phrase without it.

She walked to her SUV and got in. After starting the rugged vehicle, she headed towards her home outside the OS compound. The radio played classic rock as she sped down a wide, empty interstate cutting through the dense woods. She bobbed her head from side to side as tunes she grew up listening to blasted through her speakers. It was a carefree drive that allowed her mind to wander back to her thoughts on her work. She couldn't help it: her mind was on a mission to dwell on this.

A few thoughts bounced around her skull. _Am I bored? Am I getting burned out? Do I need a new hobby to get my mind off work? Do I need a vacation?_ It could have been all of the above and none of the above for all she knew, though her strong suspicion was that she simply wasn't interested. She graduated from Orange Star's most prestigious military academy, excelled in logistics, and had even proven herself fighting Black Hole. She got along well with the other CO's, was able to oversee operations in Omega Land, and had earned the love and respect of both her troops and her fellow commanders. Was it presumptuous of her to feel her talents were wasted in this desk job? A Senate Committee could be put together to supervise the reconstruction, and one of the government's environmental protection agencies could take over. Or even the Allied Nations could create an environmental coalition with a supervisory AN committee.

She let out a frustrated sigh, and muttered words that were dying to get out. "Why am I handcuffed to this damn project?"

**PRESIDENT'S OFFICE, PATOMAC CITY, DISTRICT OF ANACOSTIA**

"Nell, won'cha change your mind?" Max appealed.

"No Max. I think Rachel is just fine where she is." The Commander in Chief of Orange Star replied patiently. She'd had this conversation with Max _and_ Sami before.

"But anyone can do that job!" the blue-haired CO protested. "We need her where she can do some good, ya know? She's wasted in that position!"

"Max, Max, Max," Nell said shaking her head. "I know you think a lot of her, but she is my sister. Don't you think I'd know where she'd best fit?"

"Well, I guess."

"And don't you think I've thought long and hard about the best place for her?"

"Uh huh."

"And do you think I'd assign my sister to a job she wasn't suited for?"

"Look," Max said, backing off some. "She's a good kid 'n she can handle herself. She took care'a Von Bolt like a lil' champ. I just think she's better off doing something other than pushing papers. Overseeing training, maybe? Or even put her with Jake on Operation Dumpster Dive."

Nell stood up, turned, and looked out the large window that made up a third of the wall behind her desk and looked out at the skyline of Orange Star's majestic capital city. "Jake and Sami are doing just fine with tracking down the Bolt Guard."

Max walked up beside her and wrapped an arm around her. "I just worry about her. I think she deserves better."

"I know Max, but rest assured…" The blonde said, turning towards him and looking deep into his eyes. "…I have her right where I need her."

Max nodded looking back at her. "If you say so. I still think she needs to be doing something other than pushin' paper."

"Repairing the damage to Omega Land is a delicate thing." Nell said turning back towards the window. "I don't trust just anyone to do it right."

"Well, if you're sure." Max conceded.

"I am."

**INTERNATIONAL ZONE INDIA-17, OMEGA LAND**

Rachel stood outside her suburban-bordering on urban house, stretching. It was later than she usually jogged, but she wanted to get a little exercise in at least. After a few minutes, she took off an a brisk jog. The cool, sweet woodland air hit her like a soothing breeze and the stillness of the night allowed her to close her eyes and get lost in the moment. No paperwork. No phone calls or texts. Nothing but the mountain air and sweet silence. She extended her gait and leaned forward a little to pick up speed. _One two one two one two_. She kept her pace with a mechanical rhythm, and didn't let anything break it.

After about twenty minutes, she stopped at a red light and looked at her watch. _Jeez, it's eleven already?_ It was getting late and she needed some sleep. Just to her right, she noticed a narrow street named "Commencement Drive." Rachel was familiar with the name, as she often stopped at a coffee shop at the intersection of Commencement and Fillmore Street on the way to work. It was barely used anymore, and served more as an alley than anything now. Still, it was a more direct route than what she normally took. Opting for the shorter route, she headed down the street. As the CO went, she could hear mumbling. It went on for a few minutes.

As Rachel neared the source, the voices grew louder and more aggressive. She didn't need to hear the conversation to know someone wasn't happy with their current predicament. Curious to see the problem, Rachel trotted over to a brown, brick building with large front-store windows. Between it and a red brick building was a five foot gap. She peeked around the corner and saw the gap leading to a wider area where assumed was a back door possibly used for loading and unloading goods via dolly. She couldn't see anyone, but one voice grew more frantic, while another remained calm and collected.

"Look man, I don't want trouble!"

"Give me the package, and there won't be any."

"I can't man! I gotta deliver this!"

"That's a problem."

"I'll give you whatever else you want, just don't kill me!"

"You know what I want."

"I told you! I can't do that!"

Rachel snuck around the corner and sidled along the brown wall until she reached the corner where the gap widened and looked to see what was going on. There were two men: one middle aged in a navy blue pinstripe suit, the other probably in his twenties wearing street clothes. Mr. Suit was standing with a lit cigar, while Mr. Casual was sitting on the ground, his back to the unyielding brick wall. Mr. Casual had his hands over his face in a submissive gesture, shaking slightly.

"One last chance, little boy." Mr. Suit said, pulling out a handgun from his suit jacket. "Ammo is expensive. Don't make me waste any on you."

Perhaps the boy felt he had nothing left to lose. It could have been the adrenaline that kicks in when a person looks death in the face. Either way, time slowed down and Rachel watched Mr. Casual looked Mr. Suit in the eye and spit on his brown leather dress shoes. "Fuck off." The sound of the gunshot struck Rachel like a baseball bat. Mr. Suit dropped to a knee and started digging through Mr. Casual's pockets.

Rachel was angry. She was angry at Mr. Suit for killing a young boy, angry and Mr. Casual for not giving Mr. Suit what he wanted. Most of all, the CO was livid with herself for sitting back and watching. She wanted to hang Mr. Suit up by his tie. _He has a gun! You can't just walk over there!_

Mr. Suit must have felt he was being watched, as he stopped searching the corpse and glanced over towards Rachel. The young CO quickly ducked out of sight and frantically wondered what to do next. The best thing would be to get out of there. He had a gun, and he may have seen her. He'd likely assume she saw the whole thing, and wouldn't want loose ends. She could report the incident to the police and let them handle it.

She quickly spun around to run back to her home, but heard Mr. Suit behind her.

"Hold it!"

She stopped.

"Where you off to?"

Her mind raced. "Uh…uh…"

"Doesn't matter. You're comin' with me now."

She felt him press his gun to the back of her skull and slap a firm hand over her mouth. He drug her back over to where Mr. Casual was laying and pressed her up against the wall. "Hate to do this," he said, unapologetically. "But I can't have you running off and tellin' anybody about this."

Rachel's heart felt like it would burst out of her chest, and she immediately regretted her earlier thoughts. _And to think, I wanted more excitement in my life. Remind me, if I ever live though this, to kick myself._

"Turn around for me." He said. "I like to look people in the eye when I burn'em."

Rachel turned around slowly and did her best to mask her fear.

Mr. Suit's face blanched and he recoiled like Rachel was a venomous snake. "What the fuck?"

Unbeknownst to Mr. Suit, Mr. Casual's candle of life had a few burning embers left on the wick. Mr. Suit normally didn't take time to check if his shots killed instantly or if a person bled out, nor did he really care so long as they were incapacitated. He did care, however, when Mr. Casual managed to dig a two-and-a-half inch folding knife into his right knee. The older man howled in pain and clutched the injury with both hands.

Rachel took the opportunity given and rammed Mr. Suit's face into her knee. He fell over backward and the CO pounced on him in an instant. The two wrestled with the gun as Mr. Casual managed to drag himself the few feet over to the combatants and pulled his knife out of Mr. Suit's leg. He then stabbed Mr. Suit in the right elbow, careful not to get Rachel's arm. Suit let go of the gun, and Casual grabbed it, put it to Suit's temple and pulled the trigger.

Rachel's ear was ringing as she climbed off of the assailant. She was trembling from the adrenaline high, but forced herself to think straight and rushed to Casual's side. "A-a-are you ok-kay?" she said to the young man cradled in her arms.

"Don't think I'll make it." He wheezed, blood seeping from his nose and mouth. Despite his mortal injury, he had an almost elated expression on his face. "It's you, isn't it? It's really you!"

Rachel blinked in confusion. _Do I know him? Maybe he's just rattled from what happened._

"Thank god you're here. Where have you been? Never mind!" He fished out an envelope from under his shirt. "I don't have much time left. You gotta get this to Schaefer!"

Still in a fog, Rachel took the envelope. "Uh…I think you've got me confused with someone else…"

He weakly shook his head. "No, I got the right person." His breathing became increasingly labored. "Find…Schaefer. He's…gotta know…about…"

Mr. Casual fell limp in her arms, leaving her with a lot of questions and no answers. Did this person know her, or was he just delusional from blood loss? Had he seen her on television? Who was Schaefer, and what was in this envelope? She looked at the small paper package. It looked, smelled, and felt like trouble. One man had died because of it, and another killed trying to get it. Every fiber of common sense in her body screamed that she should leave it with the young man, report what happened to the police, and let the authorities figure everything out.

Still, something was strange. Mr. Suit was _terrified_ of her when he saw her face. Was it because she was a government official and he feared legal repercussions? Somehow, Rachel didn't think so. Someone who wasn't afraid to gun a person down over an envelope probably didn't lose any sleep over legality. No, what she saw went deeper than a man who realized he picked on the wrong person. It was the look of a murder victim watching the slasher's knife descend upon his heart with callous inevitability. The man acted as though she could kill him with a snap of her fingers. Thugs didn't act that way, especially when they had a _gun_.

It was all too weird, and Rachel wasn't comfortable with any of it. Too many uncertainties. Plus, her recent experience told her a lot about her life expectancy with this letter in her possession. Still, she stood there and let Mr. Suit shoot the boy. Granted, Suit had a gun, but there were two of them! Maybe they could have overpowered him? The least she could do, to settle things in her own mind anyway, was find whoever this Schaefer was, and give him this letter. At least Casual wouldn't have died in vain. Either way, she had to make a decision. Someone had to have heard the gunshot, and would likely have called the police. With a sigh that said "I'm going to regret this," She stuffed the sallow-papered mass in her shorts pocket. Still not completely sure of her decision, she left the alley with the envelope.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes

Probably should have added this disclaimer before, but it slipped my mind. I **do not own the Advance Wars series, nor do I own any companies involved in the production of Advance Wars/Battalion Wars/Famicom Wars.** Secondly, I don't have the time to go through and compare this to every other piece of fiction out there, so **any similarities to other works are purely unintentional and coincidental**.

I had a long, hard debate with myself as to whether I should include a segment that I ultimately cut out of this chapter due to length concerns. I want to get the story moving, but I don't want to move too fast or overwhelm the reader with too much at once. The chapter was pushing 5K words, which is the max word length I shoot for per chapter. It's now about 4,100 (according to Word), so let me know if this is too long, too short, about right, etc.

Third, I'll try to keep this updated regularly, but I am in university so I can't make any promises.

Lastly, reviews are very much appreciated and taken into consideration when I write. Don't hold back and bring up any suggestions/criticisms you have (content, format, length, wording, etc.). With all that crap out of the way, please enjoy…

**Chapter 2**

**Vorpommern Island, Black Hole, Cosmo Land**

The chilly air of the concrete corridors put an extra layer of tension on the young man walking towards a narrow wooden door. His uniform showed him to be of a dangerous moderate rank: high enough to be recognized, but low enough to remain expendable. He took a deep breath of musty air, and knocked on the door. A raspy mechanical voice commanded him to enter, and the officer took one last look down the cramped hall he'd just traveled. When the narrow wooden door was fully opened, he strolled into an all too familiar place that the man had still not gotten accustomed to: a decrepit conference room.

For the past few years, an old undiscovered bunker from the Cosmo Land War had served as a gathering-place for a rising faction within Black Hole. The relic served its role well enough: small, secluded, underground, and very safe from prying Allied Nation eyes. It was easy to find if you knew where it was, and virtually impossible to stumble across if you didn't. There was only one problem: the place was a _tomb_.

Each time the officer had to stroll down those steps, he felt like he was descending into a crypt. Everything about this place was eerie: the bleak concrete that surrounded you on all sides in every room, the musty chilled air, the old furniture and layers of dust and cobwebs that greeted each guess. By far the worst had to be the dodgy wiring, though. The ominous structure was bad enough on its own. It was indescribable when the electricity went down and the old flickering lights winked out.

The room was dimly lit by an old light bulb that buzzed as it hung from the ceiling. Though faint, it was enough for the compact space. The conference room was approximately three meters wide by ten meters long, but it didn't look nearly as large as it sounded. A long wooden table with eight matching chairs stretched down the length of the room. Chalk-boards lined the side walls and a map of Cosmo Land decorated the wall behind the head of the table. When he reached the near end of the conference table, he stood at attention and bowed his head. "My lord."

A grating mechanical voice broke cut through the air like a serrated knife. "I assume you have bad news, calling me here on such short notice."

"Button has failed his mission." He reported. The few minutes of silence that followed were deafening

"Schaefer has the package?"

"No my lord. The CO Rachel of Orange Star has it." There was more painful silence.

"Then we have nothing to worry about."

The young man dared to breath for the first time. Seldom was bad news this well taken. "W-we don't?"

"The brat should be easy enough. Assemble a Blackout team. I want the package destroyed or in my possession by tomorrow."

"And Rachel?"

"Kill her, abduct her…I leave it to your discretion. Just remember: Omega Land showed us what she's capable of when provoked. Don't underestimate her."

"Yes my lord. Will there be anything else?"

"No. Take care of this Major Bauer." The warlord admonished. "As you know, I offer limitless opportunities to those who prove useful and no patience for those who don't."

"Yes my lord! You won't be disappointed!"

The officer turned and walked out the door, leaving the warlord to his thoughts. Button was a capable operative when functioning in the city. His criminal background made him very street smart, and his military training only augmented his above-average competence. Disposing of him wouldn't ordinarily be a simple task. Something else had to be at play.

That didn't really matter though, nor did Rachel's sudden emergence into the scene. He had seen what the girl was capable of and had no intention of underestimating her. Still, Rachel was far from becoming a runaway threat. After all, she had a continent to rebuild. He doubted she'd be ready to spring back into another war with such a burden already on her shoulders. In addition, she wouldn't pose much of a hindrance to the Blackout Team. They would take care of her: permanently or otherwise. Either way, she'd be out of the picture and her command ability likely wouldn't come in to play.

Satisfied, the warlord rose from the worn wooden chair and left the bunker. There was a lot of work to do and little time to do it in. The faction leader didn't have time for error.

**International Zone India-17, Omega Land**

Rachel sat in her fourth floor office talking on the phone. Her twelve-foot square workspace was occupied by her chair, an "L" shaped computer desk, some filing cabinets, and a large window which she stood in front of, staring out. She watched as the trees danced restlessly in the persistent wind: their branches slapping away at unseen assailants. The woods were tumultuous, the sky overcast; much like the cloudy inner churnings of the young CO's mind.

"I couldn't believe it!" Rachel said to Nell, regarding last night's events. "He just shot him!"

"Oh dear…" Nell replied.

"Yeah, I know! So anyway, I turned to leave and then he came up behind me and tries to kill me!"

"That's horrible!"

"Right?" Rachel said, sitting down, but still looking out. "I thought I was a goner until the guy he shot stabbed him in the knee! After that, I wrestled him to the ground and the other guy got the gun and shot him."

"Thank god you're safe! What happened next?"

"I ran home and called the cops. Oh, and the first guy that got shot gave me some letter before I left."

"A letter?"

"Well, an envelope. I don't know what it is." Rachel said spinning around in her chair, picking the packet up off of her desktop and looking it over for the hundredth time. "Said I needed to get it to some guy called 'Schaefer.'"

"Who's that?"

"Don't know. That's the weird thing, I didn't know _any_ of these people but they all seemed to recognize me."

"Maybe because you've been on the news lately?" Nell suggested.

"No, it's like they knew me personally or something. Kinda like old acquaintances I hadn't seen for years. They knew me, but acted like they didn't expect to see me again."

"Hmm…it's probably just a mistake of identity. What are you going to do with the letter?"

"Can't say yet. Part of me wants to get it to whoever this 'Schaefer' guy is. The other part wants to put this through a shredder and run the other way."

"Sounds like bad news to me." Nell said. "I'd just throw it away if the police didn't want it."

"Maybe." Rachel said, leaning back in her desk chair. "I don't know. I just don't know right now."

"Listen Rachel, you have enough on your plate right now." Her sister admonished. "You don't need to get caught up in someone else's business. I really need you focusing on the reconstruction effort."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, I'm sorry that happened but I'm relieved you're okay. Sorry, but I have to go. Remember: no Nancy Drewing around. I need you focused on the restoration of Omega Land. Take care, Rachel."

"Yeah, talk to you later."

Rachel hung up the phone and sat drumming her fingers on the hard oak surface of her desk. _Nell would just throw it away_. _Probably the smart thing to do too._ The police didn't want it. She gave her affidavit to the officer that came to her door when she reported the incident. They said they'd be in touch if they needed anything else, but Rachel didn't think they would. The causes of both deaths were pretty clear in her opinion, she hadn't touched any of the weapons, and the gun certainly wasn't registered in her name. She didn't have any good reason to believe the police would come after her for the murders.

Still drumming, the name popped into her head again. Who was it? Her thoughts were interrupted when an office aid knocked at the door. "'Scuse me Commander. Am I interrupting?"

"No, not at all." She said eager for the distraction from her nagging question. "What is it?"

"Your newspaper." The young man said, setting it on her desk. "Sorry it's late. The delivery truck had a flat, I think."

"That's not a problem. Thanks, Adam."

He gave a nod and quickly left as Rachel opened it up and looked through it. She flipped past the obituaries section and paused before turning back to it. "Hm." _He's probably not here, but it won't hurt to look._ With a passing curiosity, she scanned through the lists until she found a picture that looked just like Mr. Casual.

_Lucas Ackermann…age twenty-four…Hauptgefreiter in the Heer…loved sports cars...wait, what?_ Rachel read over that again. _Hauptgefreiter in the Heer?_ Rachel rubbed her chin. _Maybe that's how he knows me. He was a soldier in Von Bolt's Army._ She considered that for a minute. _Why was he so glad to see me, though? If he fought for Von Bolt, I don't think he'd be too relieved to run in to me on the street._ It definitely left more questions than it answered, especially considering the envelope. Did its contents have something to do with the Bolt Guard? Could it be a message telling Von Bolt supporters were their leader was hiding out?

The possibilities seemed endless, and Rachel needed to know. She hadn't opened the envelope because she wasn't sure it was something the CO wanted a part of. If she left it alone, it would be easier for her to discard. By opening it, she was, in her own mind, committing herself to delivering the message contained therein. She'd be looking at the last thoughts of a dead man meant for someone else's eyes. If Von Bolt was a factor though, it changed everything. This wasn't just a matter of passing a letter off to someone: it became a matter of national security…and even a bit personal. Of all the people in the world, the young CO from Orange Star despised the living cadaver more than she ever thought it was possible to hate someone. Nothing would make her happier than to show up on the old bastard's doorstep with a battalion of her finest troops telling him he could come quietly, or be hauled in by his ears.

Rachel dug out a letter opener from her desk and went to slit the top off of the envelope, but paused._ He worked for Von Bolt. He knew who I was. More importantly, he knew my role in the last war._ It didn't take long for the next thought to cross Rachel's mind. S_ome kind of trap? An assassination attempt, like an Anthrax letter? Hey, it's so good to see you! Take this letter and drop dead when you open it!_ She set the envelope down, pondering on what exactly to do with it. "Throw it away" were the first words to come to mind. What if it was information on Von Bolt, though? What if the only thing standing between her and a scenario she had dreamt about for countless days was right before her wrapped in stationary? Could Ackermann have died because he was trying to defect with the meeting coordinates of the entire Bolt Guard in his hands? It explained why he was so happy to see her despite her being an OSCO, but it didn't explain who Schaefer was or the reaction of Mr. Suit. With a frustrated sigh, she realized she was at a loss. It was too risky to open, but too potentially valuable to discard. Some questions answered, others left blank. She was right back at square one.

Well, maybe not_ exactly_ square one, but pretty close. She had a hunch Black Hole was involved in whatever this envelope was about. The former Von Bolt soldier was pretty happy about handing it off to her, making her worry about the nature of its contents. On the other hand, said man was killed because he had it, leaving her suspicious of whether it contained valuable information. On top of everything, somehow "Schaefer" fit into the picture along with herself. _Speaking of…_

She turned back to the obituary and looked for any possible reference to a "Schaefer."She wasn't too surprised there weren't any. The CO tossed the letter opener back in her desk drawer, grabbed her cap and got up. It was time to get coffee. It was time for lunch. It was time for her to do _anything_ other than sit here and obsess over a stupid envelope. Nell told her not to play detective. There were more important things for her to be doing. She didn't have time for this. Digging her phone out of her purse, she sent a text to Jake and Sami about their lunch plans.

"U guys off 2 lunch?"

"Ya u?" Jake replied.

"Just leaving. Where u 2 want 2 meet?"

"Gilley's good 4 u?" Sami replied

"Ya c u ther" Rachel replied, and dropped the phone back in her purse as she walked out of the building and towards her car.

**Gilley's Bar & Grill, International Zone India-17, Omega Land**

The small restaurant was surprisingly quiet when Rachel arrived. There were a lot of empty tables, but that may have been why the two wanted to come here. No one liked a loud, obnoxious place when they were talking with friends. Sami and Jake were already sitting at a booth next to one of the large front windows when Rachel walked through the doors. They waved her over and she grabbed a seat beside Jake. "What's hap'nin?" he said, throwing an arm around her and squeezing.

"Hey, Rae Rae." Sami said getting up and giving Rachel a hug of her own and sitting back down. "Heard you got mugged or something?"

Rachel let out a laugh. "No, nothing like that. Just ran across a crazy guy with a gun." She told them everything that happened that night: how she got the envelope, how the two people seemed to know her, and about the delivery she was supposed to make.

"Damn." Jake finally said. "That's heavy."

"Thank god you're okay!" Sami chimed in.

"Well, physically okay I guess." Rachel said. "I'm going out of my mind over this letter. Nell says I should just trash it."

A waiter interjected. "Pardon me; what can I get you all today?"

"I'd like your top sirloin, please." Sami replied.

"I'll have a burger." Jake said.

"Just a Chicken Caeser Salad for me." Rachel said

"Okay." He scribbled onto a notepad. "And to drink?"

"Water." They all said at once, eager to get back to their conversation.

"Alright, I'll have that right out for you." He said, collecting the menus set on the table and hurrying off.

"Not a bad idea to throw it away." Jake said. "Sounds like its got bad mojo."

"Yeah, but I did some research and found out the guy who gave it to me has ties to Von Bolt."

Jake and Sami perked up at the mention of the name. "Really?" the commando said.

"Yeah, I thought this letter may have something to do with the Bolt Guard, or maybe the old man himself."

"Here are your waters." The waiter said, returning with a tray and glasses. "Your food should be ready in just a few more minutes.

"Thanks." Sami replied.

"Could be." Jake said. "Have you opened it?"

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not sure if it's safe to."

"You mean like a sabotaged letter?" Sami asked.

"Something like that. What do you think?"

Sami stroked her chin. "I think if he wanted to kill you via mail, he'd probably send it to your mail box instead of giving it to you and telling you to give it to someone else. I also don't think he'd ask you to deliver it if there was some kind of plot against you personally."

Rachel blushed. _Jeez, now I'm turning paranoid._ "Guess it is pretty stupid."

"I didn't mean it that way." Sami quickly replied. "Just, sounds like an inefficient way to off somebody. Giv'em a letter and tell them to deliver it with the hope that they'll be nosy and look at it before they get it where it's supposed to go? Lot'sa holes in that plan."

"Ha ha, I can see it now." Jake said cracking up. "Rachel: hero of Omega Land, little sister to the Commander in Chief, and a great soldier died from opening a letter."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah, get a good laugh. Anyway, what do I do? I don't know who Schaefer is or if he's even a real person."

"It's tough." Sami said scratching her head. "Can't think of anyone who'd know either. Hawke isn't around, and Lash doesn't strike me as the type to pay attention to who's under her command."

"You might dig around in the IDN and see what you can find." Jake offered. "I'm sure if Schaefer has anything to do with Black Hole, he's in there somewhere."

Rachel nodded. The Intelligence Data Network of Orange Star was voluminous, though. He had to be there somewhere…along with four billion other people. "I just have the one name, though. There's no telling which of the countless other 'Schaefers' in there is the one I'm looking for. Plus, Nell doesn't want me playing detective. She seems kinda annoyed by the whole thing."

Sami shrugged. "I don't think it'd hurt anything to satisfy your curiosity."

"Yeah." Jake added. "Nell's probably just testy from being a bit overworked. I think you should at least find out who Schaefer is. Could be Ackermann's dad. He might really want to know what his son's letter says."

"Or, it could be info on Von Bolt." Rachel reminded them. "Maybe I should look at it and see."

"That could save a lot of time." Sami said. "But I doubt that's the case."

"He could have been a defector, trying to get in touch with Rachel." Jake offered hopefully, but Sami shook her head.

"He had no way of knowing Rachel would be there. Also, if he wanted to get in touch with Rachel, he would have done that through different channels than roaming the back alleys of Omega Land. I think we're dealing with a courier with a specific mission to get this letter to Schaefer personally." Sami said, once again bringing much needed grounded reasoning to the situation.

"And here we go."The waiter returned with the meals and set each down in front of the corresponding friends, then setting three receipts in the center of the table. "I hope everything's to your liking. If you need anything else, let me know. Just pay on your way out when you're done."

He took off, leaving the three friends to their lunch.

"Anyway, enough about my drama." Rachel said, spearing some chicken with her fork. "How's the Dumpster Dive?"

Sami let out a groan as she cut off a chunk of steak. "In the dumps right now."

"Any time we come across something, we're usually too late." Jake said. "They've always 'just left.'"

"That sucks." Rachel said.

"No kidding. I'm getting tired of being half a step behind all the time." The boy said, squeezing ketchup on his hamburger.

"It's slow right now." Sami added, chewing her steak. "But the more compounds, safe houses, and hideouts we raid, the more we find out about Black Hole. I'll tell you, that country has done some crazy stuff."

"You're preaching to the choir." Rachel said. "I've been cleaning up after some of that crazy stuff."

"Crazier than that." Jake munched on a French fry. "We've found some kind of journal or something on a research project last raid we did. Turns out, Black Hole was experimenting with child soldiers."

"You're kidding?" Rachel said, nearly spitting out a chunk of lettuce.

"Nah." He said, swallowing. "We found some kind of service history covering a ten year old girl named 'Leona.'"

"That's awful!" Rachel said, dumbfounded. _Just when you think they can't sink any lower…_

"Someone must have been really interested in this girl. Her life's story is practically all there. Someone in the Bolt Guard has been reading up on her entire career."

"Is she dead?"

"Records don't say," Sami added. "…but all the information pretty much ends around the time Sturm came to power. Could be that she was killed in the uprisings and the records were either destroyed or not kept in the first place."

"Or she could still be alive today doing who knows what." Jake said.

"Child soldiers…" Rachel muttered incredulously. "Are you for real?"

Both Jake and Sami nodded somberly. "The records suggest that there could have been entire platoons of them. Leona was the only one covered in any detail, though." Jake said.

"It's weird." Sami said. "The Bolt Guard had a strong interest in her. If she's alive, it's very possible that they're trying to reach out to her."

"Any idea why?" They both shook their heads.

"We didn't read her bio in any great detail," Sami said, chewing more steak. "…but she didn't come across as being very pleasant. Real tough. _Real_ dangerous. If the notes we found are any indicator, she could easily bring down a whole infantry platoon by herself and love every second of it. Her papers seemed to suggest she enjoyed battle."

"I can't believe it." Rachel muttered. _A _ten_ year old child with bloodlust and a kill count? How could you possibly dress children in battle gear, put a rifle in their hands and send them off to war like a regular soldier?_ _Where would you get a child sized Kevlar vest? Who would make helmets for child-sized heads?_

"Crazy stuff." Jake said.

"Are they still doing it?"

"Oh no." Sami said. "This was several years ago. We just happened upon some of the documentation."

"Well, _that_'_s _good." Rachel said, finishing up the last of her salad. "I can't imagine what that would be like."

"It can't be easy." Sami said, wiping her mouth off and looking at her watch. "Sorry, Rachel, but I have to go. Von Bolt never rests, and neither do I."

She got up and gave Rachel a hug. "I hope you figure out who that Schaefer guy is."

"I'll work on it. Good luck with tracking down the old man."

Sami walked up to the front counter and paid her bill as Rachel and Jake shared a brief moment together.

"Hey, if you need help with anything or want to talk about this letter, I'm all ears. Just give me a call." He said, standing up.

"Thanks Jake." Rachel said, standing up and wrapping an arm around him. "It means a lot."

"Sorry, but I better get going." He said returning her embrace. "Like she said, Von Bolt doesn't rest."

"Yeah, I've got plenty to keep me busy too. For some reason, all the scientists decided to meet today. Plus, I got my joint review with Lash." Rachel added the last bit with a hit of exasperation.

"Good luck." Jake said. "She can get on your nerves after a while."

"A while?" Rachel added. "Do five minutes count as 'a while?'?"

Jake let out a laugh. "You can handle it. You've dealt with worse."

Rachel wasn't so sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Orange Star Headquarter, International Zone India-17, Omega Land**

After a few hours of meeting with different scientists and running through a seemingly infinite list of facts and figures, Rachel had finally gotten to the appointment she most dreaded. She checked and double-checked to make sure her eyes didn't deceive her, but the name remained next on her list. Lash.

It wasn't so much that she disliked the girl. It was more like a part of her still blamed the mad scientists for what happened to Omega Land. She wasn't the mastermind, but she provided the tools, information, and science that got things where they were now: she didn't cause the problem, but she didn't make things better either. To her credit, she did eventually join the Allied Nations' effort in dealing with Von Bolt. On the same token, however, she also helped Von Bolt rise up in the first place. At the very least, she was partially responsible. At the very most, she had broken even.

Ignoring even that, she just seemed to be running a thousand miles an hour in any direction she could find. The girl never sat_ still_. She was always on a high of some kind. On top of that, she treated her soldiers as playthings, saw the world as her playground, and constructed technological monstrosities with little concern for the consequences of her creations. Rachel could find a million and one different things wrong with the girl, and every single one of them got on her nerves fast. The Orange Star CO never considered herself high strung or irritable but this girl managed to push Rachel's patience to the breaking point every time they met.

Then, Rachel was reminded of her earlier conversation about Black Hole's child soldiers. Had Lash been one? It would explain her seemingly rattled and infantile mental state. Maybe the CO should feel sorry for the girl instead of frustrated with her.

Rachel's office phone rang. "Yes?"

"Rachel? This is Adam. Lash is here to see you."

She let out a groan. "Let her in." _Better sooner than later, I suppose._

A few seconds passed before Lash bounded in the room with all the composure of a chimpanzee on a sugar high. "Heya Rachel!" the girl said, flopping down on the chair across from the tired CO. Immediately, she swung her boots up and rested them on top of the table, a little mud dropping off the bottom of them and peppering documents sitting on the desktop.

_And she's already annoying me_. "Hello Lash." Rachel replied, brushing the mud off with a swipe of her hand.

"How's that Malibu Barbie sister of yours?"

Rachel suppressed her irritation "_Nell_ is fine, Lash. How have things been for you?"

"Alright I guess. Bored out of my mind with all this, though."

"Join the club." Rachel said. "Are you ready to go over the progress reports?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to look at your stupid papers."

"No, you're supposed to read off _your _results, and I compare them with last month's."

"Oh _that's_ what you meant by 'monthly joint review.'" She said. "I thought it mean I smoked…um never mind. Guess I don't have that with me."

Rachel let out a sigh. "Lash, you're two months behind on your reports and I'm running out of excuses. Nell's breathing down my neck on this, and I'm getting tired of having to fill in the blanks because of your negligence."

"Cry me a river." She said. "_I'm_ the one stuck doing all the gardening. Do I look like a nature girl to you?"

"Honestly?"

"Shut up!" She snapped. "I'm trying, but this isn't my thing! You'd have better luck getting me to play bed-pan nurse to a grizzly bear!"

"That could be arranged." Rachel shot back with an evil grin. "The Department of Wildlife is looking for able-bodied people to…"

"You wouldn't _dare_!" the engineer shrieked.

"Try me."

"Alright already! I'll get you the stupid papers when I can!"

"By tomorrow."

"By next week!"

"By tomorrow."

"In a couple of days?"

"By _tomorrow_!"

Lash rolled her eyes. "Fine, jeez. You're worse than my mother."

"That just might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Lash. That truly warms my heart."

Lash stuck her tongue out at the CO. "Anything else you want from me?"

"Nope." Rachel said. "Get that paperwork ready by tomorrow and you won't hear from me for another month."

"Sounds great." Lash said, sweeping her feet off the desk and knocking the plain envelope to the floor in the process. Rachel quickly dove after it, but Lash noticed and was faster.

"Oooo, what's this?"

"Give me that!"

"Is it a love letter?"

"No! Give it back!" Rachel said, grabbing for it.

Lash pushed her away with her free hand. "I bet it's from a secret admirer!"

"No it's not! Give it back _now_!"

"A boyfriend?"

"No!"

"Ooo, a _girlfriend_?"

"No! It's from nobody!"

"Nobody huh?"

"Give me that!" Rachel barked, as she snatched the paper away from the scientist.

"Jeez, don't have a cow!" Lash spat. "I was just looking!"

"_This_ is a _very_ important communiqué!"

"To who?"

"I…I don't…"

"Know?" Lash said with a big grin.

Rachel's mouth hung open for a second as the gears turned. "No, I _do_ know!"

"Then who?"

"I can't say!"

"So you don't know!"

Rachel let out a growl. She was too tired to play games. "Some guy called Schaefer!"

Lash's face turned serious and she gasped. "You mean..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Rachel glared at her. "_What_?"

"Nothing!" Lash said, getting up and backing towards the office door. "I'm uh…I'm gonna go review my monthly joint now! Toodles!"

She was gone like a shot. Rachel thought about going after her, but figured it wasn't worth it. It was just a stupid letter that should have gone in the garbage the minute she got back from her jog. She didn't care about it. So what if Lash knew something? No skin off Rachel's nose. The CO looked at her clock. _4pm. One more appointment and I go home._

She relished the thought today. _Go home. Fix a warm bath. Cook something special tonight. Just take it easy. _

But first, she had some work to finish. She tidied her desk and pulled out a file from a grey filing cabinet behind her. She set in on top of the envelope, opened the file, and readied herself for her last meeting.

**International Zone Hotel-2**

A team of Black Hole troops stood at attention as Major Bauer walked into a makeshift briefing room. Six long tables, each with two chairs, filled what was a classroom in a school prior to the war. The Major walked to the front and stood next to a blackboard that took up the entire wall. Taped to the blackboard was a map of Omega Land. "As you were." He said. The soldiers sat down and listened closely to their newest assignment.

"Your objective is a paper envelope." He started. "It was last seen in the possession of the Orange Star commanding officer Rachel. Her home address is 3620 South Harrison Street, Esslingen. It's just outside the capital of the former Black Hole state of Baden, though it's recently been designated International Zone India-17 by the Allied Nations." As he spoke, he pointed to certain locations on the map, showing where he was talking about.

"At H-Hour, you will drive a van to the objective's residence and park in an alley behind the residence. You will then cut the pad-lock on the back yard gate and approach the back door. Once there, you will perform dynamic entry on the back door and enter the premises. This is a 'cold breach.' I say again, a cold breach: _no_ explosive entry and _no_ ballistic entry. You will be operating in a neighborhood. Don't make a lot of noise to attract attention. Once inside, obtain the envelope. Should you encounter Rachel, you are authorized to use lethal force if and _only_ if she poses a lethal threat. Otherwise, I want her brought in alive. I would avoid using your firearms, as they will attract unwanted attention. By H plus seventy-five minutes, you should have returned here with the envelope and Rachel if all goes well."

"Get in, get the envelope, snag the girl, and get out." The squad leader paraphrased. "What happens once we get her?"

Major Bauer thought about that._ What _does_ happen? Orange Star isn't going to sit by and whistle a happy tune after one of their star players gets kidnapped._ He'd thought about this a lot since his meeting, and still couldn't reach a satisfactory answer. The question still plagued him: what _would_ happen next? How would Orange Star react to Rachel's disappearance? In the end, all he could do was trust his superior. The warlord was the one to mention abduction. Surely he had a plan for Rachel if she was delivered to him. The squad eagerly awaited the answer. Eventually, the Major spoke. "That's not for us to decide. Get her here, and top brass will handle the rest. Any other questions?"

**3620 S. Harrison St, Esslingen, International Zone India-17**

The fatigued CO parked her SUV in the compact garage and pressed a button on her garage door opener to close the door. The vehicle took up most of the space, and she had to be careful not to bang her door against the inside wall. Grabbing her purse and notebook, she strolled through a door and fished out her keys. After opening the door, she walked into a utility room where her washer, dryer, and a counter with a sink were located. She walked through another doorway into her open dining room and dropped her purse and notebook on the table there.

She let out a sigh. It was good to be home. She wasn't normally a busy as she was today; but when she was busy, it tended to suck the life out of her. She took off her cap and set it down next to her purse. After digging her phone out of her purse, she checked the time and dropped it back in a side pocket of her bag. _Five forty-five. Should probably fix something to eat really quick .Hmm, what sounds good…_

Rachel was a big fan of pasta, and it normally didn't take too long to prepare. Cook up some chicken, add some mushrooms and green onion with some good Alfredo sauce, and you had a meal that was ready quickly and tasted pretty good. Opting for simple and tasty over elaborate and delectable, she walked into her kitchen, opened her pantry and pulled out a box of fettuccini noodles. After setting them on an island counter top, she opened the refrigerator and dug out the other ingredients. She set them on the island as well, and got to work preparing her dinner.

Rachel carefully dug out a knife to slice the mushrooms and vegetables. She was notoriously clumsy with bladed objects and often times had band-aids around her fingers where the kitchen knife had gotten the better of her. She pulled the stalk off of a mushroom and set it on a cutting board she had sitting out on her countertop. She carefully sliced the fungus into small, even pieces when someone called her cell phone. She got the phone out of her purse and walked back into the kitchen, talking. Wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder, she continued chopping as she spoke.

It eventually became mechanical as she focused on her conversation. When she got off of the phone, she decided she had cut enough mushrooms. "Okay, now for the green onion." She said, flipping the knife in the air and catching it. She stopped. _Huh?_ She tossed the knife up again, and caught it effortlessly._ Since when can I do that without slicing my hand off?_ Maybe she'd outgrown her knife problem? With a shrug, she fished out a green onion, flipped the knife again, caught it with her left hand and started cutting. After about three chops, she stopped. _Okay, I _know_ I can't do that._ She looked at the knife, puzzled. She was right handed, and was lucky not to lose a finger when she cut with that hand. How the hell could she use a knife left-handed without slitting her wrist and stabbing herself in the neck? Confused, she started cutting again with her left hand. Amazingly, she didn't have any problem. _Okay, what the hell is going on? First I can actually use a knife, and now I can use a knife with _both hands_?_

This was too weird. Surely, if she was ambidextrous to any degree, she'd have known long before now. What the hell was going on? Still, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, she continued chopping left handed, then tossing the knife over to her right and chopping some more. The least she could do with her new-found coordination was enjoy it a little.

**International Zone Hotel-2, nearing International Zone India-17**

A dark blue van sped along The Autobahn: Omega Land's famous stretch of highway with no official speed limit. This allowed the vehicle to make really good time, though the target house wasn't too far away. The Blackout Team sat with silent anticipation. Getting the envelope and Rachel would be simple enough. The wait still bugged them more than anything. Mundane as it was, they still took it seriously: when in the service of someone like their warlord, they couldn't afford not to. There wouldn't be a second chance if their performance was anything short of outstanding. The van passed a road sign. Only a few minutes of driving to go. The group could only wait as the vehicle pulled off of the highway and headed towards a residential area.

**3620 S. Harrison St, Esslingen, International Zone India-17**

Rachel had finished her meal and sat watching the seven o'clock news quietly as she read the day's mail. _Bills._ She thought as she flipped through the envelopes. _Bills…another bill…credit card offer…what's this?_ She looked at a light blue envelope addressed to her. With a shrug, she ripped it open and pulled out a card. It was a "thinking of you" card and she got a smile from reading the caption. She then looked over the personal sentiment someone wrote. "_Don't worry, this envelope is safe to open! Hope you survived your meetings today. Love, Jake."_

She got a chuckle at that, but was grateful for him thinking enough of her to do it. That brought an older issue up: why _didn't_ she care for him? He was interested in her, and he took the time to send her cards. Who did that in this day and age? Well, except for birthdays and Christmas. Still, he continuously showed her that she mattered to him. He _cared_ and he always showed her he cared. What the hell was wrong with _her_?

Maybe it was because he was a student of hers. _Yeah, that has to be it. He'll always be a pupil of mine. I can't think of him as a boyfriend because I was his teacher and that would be creepy._ Would it though? It's not like she was a cougar teaching ninth grade English who flirted with teenagers. They were around the same age. Would there really be anything wrong with a relationship between them?

Still unable to answer that one simple question, she shook the thoughts out of her head and got up. It was about seven-fifteen. She got up and walked through the large open doorway that linked her living room to her dining room. She then fished out her phone from her purse again and noticed the envelope. _Nope. I don't care. I'm not going to even think about this. I don't care anymore. This thing has annoyed me for long enough._

She pulled out the envelope and walked back to her living room with both the phone and package, and tossed the latter onto her desk. She then pulled up her digital planner on her phone and typed in "shred envelope after bath." _That _was something she was interested: a nice hot bath to take her mind off of _everything_. She took off her shoes and jacket then headed towards her bathroom.

**3620 S. Harrison St, Esslingen, Int'l Zone India-17**

As the Blackout team passed the street, one of the members scoffed. _Harrison St?_ Many of the roads had been damaged in Omega Land due to artillery fire, air raids, etc. The Allied Nations had spent tons of money to repair the damage, but would have been nice if they kept the original Sonderbarkeit street names instead of trying to Stellarize everything. The team member was disgusted. This was Black Hole territory, but had recently assumed international ownership. Here was Stellara acting like they already fucking owned it. Next to go would probably be the Sonder name for the city.

The van eased past the street to confirm they were in the right spot. It kept going until it came upon an alleyway behind the houses on the street. As it turned, into the alley, the Blackout Team kept an eye out for addresses posted on people's fences. When they saw "3620," they stopped. The team leader looked at his watch. "The time is H plus twenty-five minutes. Let's go."

They got out of the van and slowly approached a gate in the seven foot privacy fencing. They stacked up on it, and one member produced some bolt cutters. With a snap, the padlock hanging from the latch fell to the ground. The team opened the gate and entered the yard. Now, all that was left was to enter the house. Being sound-conscious, a member dug out a lock pick set, approached the door, and got to work.

**Inside the house**

Rachel lay in her bathtub, enjoying the hot soothing water. She sat up, though, she heard a noise in her backyard. Her bathroom was right next to the back yard; so if someone was up to something there, she could hear it. _But my gate is locked! How could someone be in the yard?_ _It's probably nothing_. She gave a shrug and laid back down. Her gate was locked, and no one would be stupid enough to break into a house owned by an Orange Star CO. Then she heard what she could have sworn was her back door opening.

**Rachel's house, Living room**

The Blackout Team entered the home with firearms drawn. The weapons were fitted with suppressors, but that was just a psychological tool: the team had no intention of firing the guns. A suppressor would cut out some of the noise of a discharge, but the shot would still be more than loud enough for other people in the area to hear. Instead, they kept their weapons drawn hoping to intimidate Rachel into compliance. It was a similar thought process to their using black colored gear. Black offered no camouflage, even in the dead of night. It did, however, put chills down a person's spine.

If they hoped to bring in Rachel without too much violence, they'd need to make her believe there was nothing she could do to stop them. In essence, they had to mentally defeat her right away, otherwise a fight would ensue. If that happened, the chance of Rachel or one of the team members sustaining a fatal injury would jump.

He gave a hand gesture telling the team to spread out inside the room. As they dispersed, they began looking for the envelope. The team leader really wanted to know where the girl was, if she was even here. Her garage door was closed, so they couldn't tell if a car was in it or not. Still, one thing at a time. The thing of paramount importance was securing the envelope. Rachel would have to wait.

**Rachel's house, Bathroom**

Rachel threw on some pajama bottoms and a crop top she brought in with her, and crept into her bedroom, her phone in hand. She quickly pulled up her keypad and went to dial the police when she noticed she had only one bar of signal. _Goddammit_._ Big fucking help this is. I'm being burglarized, but before I can call the police, I have to sneak around looking for three bars._

She could hear someone rummaging around in what sounded like her living room. _What do I do? _Unlike many people, Rachel had not gotten into the habit of keeping a loaded gun in her bedroom. She never thought she'd need it. Now, she was kicking herself. She pressed herself against the bedroom wall next to the door leading to her living room and listened. Now, it sounded like two or three people were in her house._ Burgling team?_ She checked her phone again, pleading it to have three bars. _Now it has no bars. Fuck._ All she could do was wait and listen. She heard someone speak.

"Sir, I've found the envelope!"

_That's what they're after? Thank raptor Jesus! Maybe they'll leave now!_

"Good. Now all that's left is Rachel."

_Fuck times two._

**Rachel's house, Living room**

"Let's split up and search. Be careful, she may be armed. We'll meet back here. Use your radio if you find her. Remember, she's a gift to top brass. Don't rough her up unless you have to."

Everyone nodded and went their separate ways. The team leader headed towards the bedroom. The door was shut, so he dug out a small video fiberscope to check out the room without opening the door. He panned around the room until he saw a foot. After putting away the fiberscope, he readied his assault rifle and kicked in the flimsy wooden door. There was a squeal as he saw a girl matching Rachel's description fall over backwards. He aimed his gun, a laser sight centering on her forehead. Her eyes followed the red dot and her face blanched. "Hands up!" he barked. She stared at him white eyed. "Hands up, _now_! Hands up or I _will _fire!"

Rachel stood up and put her hands in the air as she looked at the end of the suppressor a mere inch from her nose. Then, she did something that she couldn't believe. Quick as a hiccup, she brought one of her arms around and slapped the gun aside. She then spun around behind him wrapped her arm around his neck, dug out his knife from his utility belt and held it up to his throat. _What the fuck am I doing? Since when can I do _this_?_ It was almost like she was controlled by some inner power she couldn't explain. Still, when her brain caught up with her body, her confidence waivered long enough for the man to hurl her over his shoulder and dump her on the floor.

Hearing the commotion, other members of the team ran into the room and proceeded to level their guns at the stunned girl. She finally put up her hands, and the leader grabbed her and fastened her hands behind her back with zip cuffs. "We got her, we got the envelope…we're done here."

**Rachel's house, Bedroom**

Rachel was dumbstruck. Here she was, an Orange Star CO, sister to the Commander in Chief of arguably the most powerful military in the world, being hauled out of her own home in cuffs and at gunpoint by some kind of SWAT team. She didn't have a weapon, and didn't have a chance to call the police. She didn't have any way of reaching the nearest Orange Star garrison. She was between a rock and a hard place. Maybe between a gun barrel and a brick wall was a better metaphor. Her stomach was jittery and her mind racing as the invaders walked her out into the living room.

As they approached the back door, they could hear a faint noise. It was a high-pitched mechanical whine, as though an RC car was driving through the house. The men started looking around for the source. "The hell is that?" one of them asked. A cool breeze swept through the house, as everyone suddenly noticed the front door of the house was swinging open in the wind. One of the men walked over to check it out, but jumped back.

"What is it?" one of them asked.

"Looks like some kind of toy." Came the response as the man bent down and picked up a miniature tank.

"That yours?" one of them asked Rachel, but she shook her head.

"Looks pretty cool." The man said, looking it over. He leveled it in front of his face. "Lotta detail…"

The sentence was cut off with a deafening bang as the gun turret of the tank fired straight into the man's face. He dropped the toy and fell limp on his back, blood tricking down his face. The tank landed on its treads, spun around, and zipped out the front door.

"Go find out what that is!" the team leader barked, furious. He spun Rachel around, meaning to ask her what the hell was going on, but was surprised to see she was in as much shock as he was. The remaining four members trotted outside, but stopped as a bright searchlight blinded them. More loud gunshots echoed as a machine gun tore through the group.

The team leader was livid, but there wasn't much he could do but get Rachel and the envelope out of here. People would have _definitely_ noticed a machine gun going off if they didn't notice the gunshot from the mini-tank. Problem was, the team member with the envelope was laying outside on the front lawn. He was in a tight spot. He could have returned with the envelope and expect to see tomorrow. It may not be a pleasant tomorrow, but it would definitely be a tomorrow. He imagined that brining in Rachel without the envelope may soften the blow to his superiors, but would definitely constitute a mission failure. Muttering some expletives, he pulled out a knife and held it to Rachel's throat. He didn't have much to lose at this point.

The two walked out the door, him half-carrying Rachel. The searchlight made it impossible to see who the interloper was, but the leader could assume it was someone from Orange Star. Perhaps, they'd be more interested in saving Rachel than stopping him from grabbing the envelope? He called out to the light. "Hey! I know you want the girl!" No response. "I just need to grab an envelope from one of my teammates, and I'll let her go! No more violence, or bloodshed! Just let me get the packet, and she's all yours!" Still no answer. He didn't know how to take that, but again, he was out of options. He drug Rachel over to one of the dead teammates, and bent down to dig through the corpse's pockets.

At this point, several people in the neighborhood had come out of their homes and watched with absolute horror as the situation unfolded. As the team leader was trying to get the envelope, the mini-tank rolled up to him, aimed its gun at his head, and fired. He fell over backwards, unmoving, and Rachel quickly pulled away from his limp grasp. _Thank god! Somehow, someone knew I was in trouble! Could it be Jake? Or maybe Sami?_ At this point, the CO didn't care. She didn't have a knife at her throat and that's what mattered.

The searchlight flicked off, and she tried to blink away the colors flashing in her eyes. She could make out a vague image in the street, but her eyes hadn't adjusted well enough yet to see who or what it was. Judging from the size, though, it had to be a tank of some kind if it had a searchlight and a machine gun._ Jake!_

As she got closer to it, she could see it was a Neotank. Its Matte Black paintjob, however, marked it as decidedly non-Orange Star. She quickly froze in her tracks, as the back of the tank folded down and its occupant came running out. "Rachel! Rachel! C'mon! We gotta go!"

Rachel recognized the voice immediately. "Lash!"

"Make sure you get the envelope!"

"_Lash?"_

The girl trotted over to her, her black coat flowing behind her. "Let's go! The cops'll be here any minute!"

"_LASH_?"

"What?"

"_What the fuck are you doing here?_"

"We don't have time!" Lash said, digging the paper packet out of one of the soldiers' pouches. "C'mon!"

"Wait wait wait." Rachel said. "I'm not going _anywhere_ until you explain this to me!"

"_Me_ explain? What makes you think _I_ had anything to do with this!"

"Because you're Lash!" Rachel said, thinking that said it all.

With a growl, Lash grabbed Rachel, who was still in zip cuffs. "Look, I was told to come get you! Someone thought you might be in danger! Now let's _go_!"

"Who?" Rachel asked, being drug towards the tank.

"You'll find out, Nosy!" the engineer said, throwing Rachel in the back of the tank. She waited a second or two for the mini-tank to roll up the ramp into the Neotank, then shut the fold-down door with the press of a button. "Gustaff!" she shouted. "Get us outta here!"

The tank spun around and tore down the street, bystanders diving for safety.

"Destination?" came a computerized voice.

"Calw" Lash said.

"What's in Calw?" Rachel asked.

"You'll find out." Lash said getting into the driver's seat.

"Great. So instead of getting kidnapped by those guys, I'm getting kidnapped by you."

"You're not getting kidnapped! You're being…transported."

"I feel much better now."

"Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Gustaff's a good driver! Plus, we got a long way to go."

"Super." Rachel said, glumly.

**Woods outside Calw, International Zone India-3**

The Neotank turned down a narrow road leading into the Ebony Woods. After a few minutes of bouncing around dirt roads, the tank came to a stop. Lash and Rachel walked down the ramp and towards what looked like an abandoned base. It had missed the worst of the war, but still looked to be in rough shape: years of wear and tear had scored up the sides of the walls on every building and structure. Lash walked the CO, into the main administrative building. "You wanna know what's in Calw? You're gonna _meet_ what's in Calw!"

"Meet?" Rachel asked uncertainly. Barefoot, in pajama bottoms, a crop top, and messy hair, rattled from the earlier events, and tired from a long day, Rachel wasn't sure she was in any condition to meet anyone.

"Yep. And he's eager to meet you too."

"Before I meet _anyone_, do you think you could get rid of these damn cuffs?"

"Oh, yeah." Lash said. "I bet we can do that. Just gotta find some scissors."

Rachel had bugged lash about the zip cuffs on the ride over, but the engineer didn't have anything to cut them with. The CO had considered gnawing through them, but that might have smacked of desperation. Plus, she wasn't sure how to get her hands in front of her to do it.

They walked into an old elevator that Rachel didn't entirely trust and rode it to the third floor. Once there, they walked down some more desolate corridors until they reached an office with "Garrison Commanding Officer" decorating the small window on the door. "Here we are!" Lash said, stuffing the envelope into the waistband of Rachel's pajamas.

"Great." Rachel said. "And I'm still cuffed."

Lash gave a shrug. "I don't think it'll kill you." She opened the door and said "good luck!" as she shoved Rachel inside.

_Gee thanks_ Rachel thought as she turned to face a person sitting behind a desk. He was facing away from her, sitting in a chair with a high back on it so that she could only see the top of his head. "Hello Rachel." Came a voice the girl recognized all too well. "It's good to see you again." The chair slowly swiveled around, and Rachel let out a gasp when she looked at a very familiar face.

**Author's Notes**

Decided to put this at the end this time. Another chapter that's a little longer than I'm happy with, but I guess it's better to find a stopping point that makes sense instead of basing it on a word limit. About the Sonderbarkeit/Stellara thing: I do plan on explaining that later in the story, though I assume you guys are smart enough to guess what I'm trying to do. Just pointing that out for any of you who were confused, that will get addressed in a chapter or so. I've already got the next chapter worked out, but I may spend some time tweaking it. Hopefully it won't be too long before I update again, though. Until then, thanks for reading and keep sending me any positive/negative feedback. You won't hurt my feelings. =P

~Ghost


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Rachel's mouth hung open. "_Hawke_!"

The man stood up and gave a slight bow. "In the flesh."

"Where have you _been_?"

"Here." He replied, walking around his desk and towards her. "There. A little bit of everywhere."

After Hawke disappeared with Von Bolt's chair, he left a lot of questions behind. He had expertly maintained a low profile and evaded the watchful eye of the Allied Nations for months now. The rumor mill had fired up and churned out countless testimonies of Hawke's exploits, sightings, and other bits of gossip that came with speculation.

He walked up to her, and pulled out a knife from his coat. "The real issue is why you are here."

Rachel eyed the knife. "Uh..Lash brought me here."

Placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder, he turned her around, cut her hands free, and returned the knife to its hiding place. "Of course she did. I'm sure you have some questions, but first things first: I believe you have something that belongs to me."

The girl's eyes widened. "_You're_ Schaefer?"

"Don't be surprised." He said, walking back to his chair. "You didn't think 'Hawke' was a real name, did you?"

"Honestly?"

He waved away her response after he sat down. "Don't answer that. The envelope, please."

The young girl sat down in a chair across from Hawke and gave her the packet that had been a headache ever since she got it. "What is it?" she asked, handing it to him.

"We'll find out." He said, taking it and putting on some reading glasses. He ripped it open and pulled out a letter. Rachel tried to read through the paper, but without much success. "Hm…interesting."

"What's it say?"

"Nothing."

"Huh? It says nothing?"

"Nothing of any importance."

"Can I see it?"

Hawke stuffed the paper in a drawer. "You had every opportunity to look at it."

That pressed a nerve. "You mean to tell me that this letter has been driving me crazy, nearly got me killed _twice_, caused troops to break in to my _home_ and try to _abduct_ me only for Lash to kill _them _and drag me to this decrepit relic of a base _in my p.j.s_ and _I don't' even get to see what it says_?"

Hawke interlocked his fingers and leaned on the old desk. "Yes, I'd say that's about right."

"Oh, come on! Not even a hint?"

"No. I _do_ appreciate you taking such good care of it for me, but I'm afraid this is not something to be flashing around." He got up and walked around the desk as he spoke. "Since you're here, though, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Does it involve the letter?"

"Not really."

"Does it involve Von Bolt's chair?"

"No."

"Why _did_ you take the chair?

"It _is_ quite comfortable." Hawke said, approaching a file cabinet, sliding open a drawer, and digging out a thick vanilla folder.

"Seriously, why did you take it?"

He walked back to the desk. "That's not important."

"I'd like to know."

"I'm sure you would." Hawke said, opening the file. "But I know there's something you'd like to know even more."

Rachel cocked her head. "What?"

"Von Bolt himself."

Now he had Rachel's attention. "You know where he is?"

"I know a lot of things." Hawke said, looking over the papers in the file.

Rachel leaned forward, listening closely. "So where is he?"

Hawke sat back in his chair and looked Rachel in the eye. "Before we talk about that, I'd like to talk about _you_."

"What about me?"

"I'm sure you've realized this by now, but you've made some enemies."

"Because of _your_ stupid letter!"

"Perhaps." Hawke said. "But you decided to take it, despite seeing two men die for it. Now, it seems whoever wanted it has focused their eye on you. I'm just curious what you plan to do about that."

"Don't know." Rachel started to say, thinking aloud. She really hadn't thought about what to make of everything that's happened the last few days. "I might report it."

"Really? You'll tell the police? What will you say? Someone tried to kill you but you don't know who? Or perhaps you'll tell your friends in Orange Star, hoping _they_ can protect you from the unknown."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm getting at you being attacked by some unknown entity that clearly had access to resources and personnel. An unknown entity who can order professional soldiers to break into your home at will. How can you deal with a threat when you don't even know who's threatening you? Who can you turn to?"

"I…I don't know." Rachel admitted. What _did _you do about a person you didn't know that wanted you dead? She wasn't sure, but she knew one thing: it had been a long day, and was turning in to a long night. Rachel didn't feel like playing games. "Is there a point to all this?"

"There just so happens to be one, yes." Hawke said, leaning forward onto the desk. "I have a proposition for you. It may catch you a little off guard. I only ask that you _think_ before you react."

"Okay."

"I want your help in bringing down the Bolt Guard. In return, I help you deal with whoever organized that attack."

"You want my help? Like troops and stuff?"

"No, I want _your_ help; Not your government's, and not your army's."

You mean you want me to…_join you_?"

"Yes."

Rachel burst out laughing, but Hawke's expression remained unchanged. "I had a feeling you'd react this way."

"Seriously, this is one of the best pranks ever! Who put you up to this? Lash?"

"No one. This is no prank."

"You're serious?"

Hawke gave a nod.

"Why should I help _you_? Just tell me what you know and I'll see that Orange Star takes care of it."

"If I wanted Orange Star's help, I'd have asked for it. I need _your_ help."

Rachel leaned forward onto the desk, her face inches away from his. "Well if Orange Star can't help you, then _I_ can't help you."

"Is that so?" Hawke said, not backing down.

"Yeah. That's so."

He gave a shrug. "Pity. I guess it falls to me and Lash to find him. I really thought you'd be on board with this, feeling the way you do about him."

Rachel bit her lip. She wanted the information on Von Bolt so bad she could taste it, but she wasn't about to give up everything she had at Orange Star and go all in with a Black Hole renegade and The Great Gazoo. She had a nice job, a good paycheck, and a pretty nice house. Well, it _was_ a pretty nice house. Now it was full of bullet holes and some broken glass.

He shook his head in disappointment. "Sorry for wasting your time. I'm sure you can find the way out."

Rachel sat back and blinked. "Huh?"

Hawke looked down at his paperwork. "If you're not interested, we don't have anything to talk about. Enjoy your boring desk job."

"My job is _not_ boring! It just so happens to be _very_ important!"

"I'm sure it's fascinating." He said, not looking up. "Filling out forms and literally watching grass grow...it sounds very engaging. I think it suits you far better than commanding armies like you were trained to do."

"What! I was a _great_ wartime leader!"

"Of course." Hawke said, still not taking an active interest in the conversation. That was starting to irritate the girl.

"Just because I'm not out winning battles doesn't mean it's not important!"

"You're absolutely correct. Cleaning up after Von Bolt is _much_ more important than finding him and making him do it."

"I am _not_ cleaning up after him!"

Hawke let out a sigh, and looked up from his work. "Is there something you _want_?"

"Wha…_you_ brought _me_ here!"

"Yes." Hawke said. "You told me you weren't interested in my offer. I have nothing else to discuss with you. I really need your help, but those trees won't plant themselves. Good luck with your secret admirer too. I'm sure now that the first attempt has failed, they'll be upping the ante. You may not even hear the shot that kills you next time." He focused on his papers again. "Anyway, I'm done wasting your time. Please stop wasting mine. I have a lot to do before Lash and I move in on Sparky."

"Where is he?" Rachel asked, not so eager to miss a chance to find him.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I really would like to tell you, but you don't want any part of this. Goodbye."

It wasn't that she wasn't interested. Nothing would make her happier. She just couldn't abandon her work. Restoring Omega Land was an important task, and not just anyone could do it. She was a vital part of the AN's mission! _Oh, who am I kidding? _She was painfully aware of how menial her job was. A seven-year-old with a mild concussion could do it, and she hated being pigeon-holed in a boring job going nowhere. Not only that, but what about the soldiers that broke into her home? Would another team be on its way next week with orders to kill on sight?

Hawke looked up from his work again. "I see you're still here. If you want someone to talk to, may I recommend a councilor?"

_Stay with the job I hate, or find the old man? Get to the bottom of that attack on my home, or go home and wait for the next attack? Bring Von Bolt to justice or spend the next several weeks listening to Jake and Sami say they almost had him?_

"Let's say I did help you?" Rachel asked. "Not that I'm committing, or anything. What would happen, hypothetically speaking?"

That got Hawke's attention, which gave Rachel a little satisfaction.

"Like I said, I know things. I can help you deal with your mysterious friend. In return, you'd play a pivotal role in catching Von Bolt."

"What would I be doing?"

Hawke turned the vanilla folder around and pushed it over to her.

She took a look at it, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What? _What_! There's no way!" Rachel looked at Hawke. "This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke!"

"No. Those _are_ the duties you'd perform." Hawke said, leaning on the desk. "Hypothetically speaking."

She looked at the folder again, to make sure her eyes didn't deceive her. "You can't be serious."

"I know it's a lot to ask of you." He said, pushing the glasses up on his nose. "But make no mistake, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary."

Rachel looked the form over again, reading aloud. "Serve as an operative in the KSK…utilize expert level Scharfschütze and CQC training…perform guerilla and unconventional warfare tactics…execute clandestine operations…perform the duties required to wage asymmetric warfare..." she looked up at Hawke. "What the hell is all this?"

"I told you: a laundry list of you'd be doing to find the Bolt Guard."

"Okay, you lost me at the offer. After seeing this crap, though, you've seriously gone off the deep end. You really think I'd know _anything_ about CQC? Let's not even get in to what I assume is 'expert level' sharpshooting! I barely qualified in Orange Star's marksmanship program! What the hell _is_ the KSK anyway?"

"It stands for the Kommando Spezialkräfte, but that's not important. Do you accept?"

"Hold on. I wanna make sure I understand this. You want _me_, a CO that's been trained to _strategize_ and _lead_ with most of my career consisting of training new COs, _commanding _armies, and spending the last several months sitting on my ass overseeing the restoration effort..." she said incredulously. "You want _me_ to play Jane Rambo on some crusade against Von Bolt? I'm curious, who's your second choice? Sensei?"

"Well, he _was_ a paratrooper."

"You see! Even _he's _a better choice than me!" Rachel said. _Christ, I'm ranking myself behind someone who gets lost in his own house. I have serious self esteem issues._ "Why didn't you just call Sami? She's done that crap her whole life! She'd be _way_ better at this sort of thing."

"Because I need you."

"Gee, if only lunatics in trench coats did it for me." She said as she dropped the file onto the desktop. "I'm the wrong person for this!"

Hawke shrugged. "I won't _make_ you participate. Just be aware of what the alternative is."

"Yeah yeah," she said, standing up and turning to leave. "Behind door number two is a creepy mystery guy twirling a handlebar mustache and plotting my demise."

"You _are _aware that they may step on others to get to you, aren't you? Nell, Jake, Sasha…they all could be in the line of fire."

Rachel stopped, and slowly turned around. "Is that a threat?"

Hawke met her steely gaze. "It's a _possibility_."

She didn't want to admit it, but he was definitely on to something. The girl was a little embarrassed: she was so worried about her own safety that she hadn't considered that scenario at all. As much as she wanted to rule it out, she couldn't. Anyone who'd come sneaking in to her house while she was taking a bath would probably stoop to using her friends or family to get what they want from her in a heartbeat. Out of everything, even more than a chance at Von Bolt, that made her stop and honestly consider accepting Hawke's ridiculous offer. The girl could live with being a target. She wasn't sure how she'd handle it, but she'd find a way. Someone torturing Nell to get what they wanted from her was a different ballgame entirely. Jake being shot or Sasha getting raped and murdered all because she didn't take steps to protect the ones she loved from _her_ problems…she couldn't bear the thought.

Hawke could tell he had struck a chord, and had the sense not to push harder. He had her attention, and more importantly, he had her thinking about what could happen. Cold and callous as it was, that's exactly what he wanted. He wanted her imagination to run wild with macabre possibilities. It wasn't the nicest way to handle things, but he had never been in danger of winning a popularity contest. If it got her on board, he'd done his job. If she still walked away, she wasn't nearly as frightened as she should have been. He watched the gears turn behind Rachel's charcoal grey eyes for a few moments before she finally spoke. "Alright, I'll do it."

Hawke removed his glasses, set them on the desk, and smiled. "Capital. It's good to have you."

Rachel placed her hands on the desk and got nose to nose with the Black Hole CO. "You better hold up your end. I'm not doing this because I want to and I'm not doing this for you or your little quest. I'm doing this because if I see a photo of Sasha with her throat slit, it'll tear the heart right out of me. I'm doing this for her and all the others I love. If you don't come through, then there's not a thing on this 'laundry list' of yours that will come close to what I'll do to you. Got it?"

The smile faded, but Hawke didn't concede an inch. "We understand each other."

Rachel stood up straight, surprised at just how tough she could be in defense of her friends. Despite her threats, she couldn't help but think it would have been so much more impressive if she wasn't wearing white pajama bottoms covered in yellow smiley faces.

Hawke rose from his seat as well. "Lash will take you to your room here. Make a list of things you want recovered from your home and we'll do what we can. Also, I'd recommend spending the next day resting up and preparing yourself for a very hard road."

"Why?"

"I'm going to have to train you all over again, and we don't have near the time we need. This means an intensive crash course in Black Hole's special operations training. The regular schedule is difficult enough: condensing like I'll have to will probably make you wish someone would bludgeon you to death with a dessert spoon."

Rachel let out a sigh. She had seen all the things she'd be expected to do, and she knew those things wouldn't come easy to a girl who'd spent the last several months in an ergonomic office chair playing computer games. Then she thought about Sasha, Nell, and Jake. They were worth protecting. She could stomach any pain and overcome any challenge if it kept them safe. Her only regret was it didn't look like she'd be seeing any of them for a while. She closed her eyes and hoped they'd understand.

**Vorpommern Island, Black Hole, Cosmo Land**

Major Bauer had dreaded this moment ever since he learned the Blackout Team wouldn't be coming back. Now he had the delightful responsibility of telling his superior the mission had failed. He had promised results. He said the warlord wouldn't be disappointed. As he descended into the bunker, it seemed so much more crypt-like than ever before. He entered the conference room, and took a deep breath. _Time to bite the bullet_. He approached the table and bowed his head. "My lord."

"Yes?" came the mechanical voice. "What do you have to report?"

"The Blackout Team…" he said, fighting to maintain composure. "…has failed its mission. They did not get the envelope or Rachel."

"Is that so?"

Bauer struggled to speak. "A black Neotank was seen in the area. It apparently gunned down the team and left with Rachel on board. I can confirm it is not one of ours, but not who sent it."

The Major felt sick, awaiting the inevitable. There were a few moments of silence as his warlord appeared to be deep in thought. About what, he didn't know nor did he want to think about it.

"Hmm…a Neotank you say?"

"Yes, my lord."

"So we can assume a third party has taken interest in this envelope. The list of possible candidates is very short."

"Yes, my lord."

The warlord thought a moment. "Major Bauer, I want you to do something for me."

"Yes my lord! Anything!" he said, almost falling over. _No one_ got a second chance.

"I realize now, you were not the right choice for this assignment. It is time to call in a group that _will _handle this."

"Yes my lord."

"Contact the Sicherheitsdienst. Have them send Team 101 here."

The Major broke into a cold sweat. "Team 101?"

"Yes. _They_ will handle this."

Bauer nodded. "Yes my lord." He had only met them once, but once was enough. They were an eccentric bunch. Eccentric and incredibly dangerous. If they were being sent after Rachel, the officer almost felt sorry for her. _Almost._

"Now get out of my sight." The warlord grumbled. He watched the officer go with slight frustration. It was rare for such failure to be tolerated but Major Bauer had brought much needed manpower. There were many soldiers loyal to him who followed his decision to join the uprising. As much as the warlord wanted to demonstrate the extent of his mercy, he needed Bauer's men. That meant he needed the Major, at least for a little while longer. The leader looked at an old clock hanging from the grey wall and considered how long it would take to gather the team and send them out here. It would probably be about a week, but well worth the wait. _They_ wouldn't make mistakes. The results might be a bit messy, but they'd be results nonetheless.

**Potomac City, Orange Star, Cosmo Land**

Rachel and Max sat on a white couch discussing a new proposal for the Allied Nations. The sunlight poured through the large windows, bringing out the vibrant blue plush carpet and the elegant ivory of the walls. Portraits of former leaders watched the CO's like vigilant guardians of Orange Star, their perpetual gazes frozen in a judgmental stare as if daring each incumbent to forget their pledge to the country. A secretary walked through the oak double doors to the Presidential Office and approached the Commander-in-chief and her colleague. "Ms. President, I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but there's been an incident in Omega Land."

Both Nell and Max looked at the young girl. "An incident?" Nell finally asked.

"I know this may be hard for you, but there's been an attack on Rachel's home."

Nell placed a hand over her mouth, and Max's stood up to face the messenger. "What?"

"Rachel is nowhere to be found. Witnesses say a black Neotank drove away from the scene."

The big man's face turned beet red. "Black Hole! Those sons of bitches!"

The secretary recoiled from Max's outburst. "I'm so sorry, Ms. President. The Orange Star forces are working with local investigators to find out what happened. They haven't had much luck, I'm afraid."

Max turned to Nell, who had buried her face in her hands. "Send me over there! I'll get'er back!"

Nell looked up from her hands. "No Max."

"What?" He turned to her. "I'm tellin' you I can find her! Give me five minutes with Lash, and we'll know what's going on! Those sumbitches have gone too far this time!"

"Max, please settle down." Nell's voice was soft, but strained. "We need to handle this in a calm, collected manner. Losing our heads won't do anything for Rachel."

"Yeah, but bustin' some heads might!"

"Max, please."

"She's your sister! How can you tell me to calm down!"

Nell looked up at Max, her gaze angrier than he'd ever seen her. "Max I _don't_ have the luxury of letting my emotions get the better of me! Say we do things your way. You go over there and throw your weight around and start a witch hunt. Where would that go? Nowhere! And it will make the Allied Nations less willing to cooperate. Whoever did this wants a knee-jerk reaction. They want us to go off half cocked.

"Yeah, but we can't just let this slide!"

"We won't, Max. I have every intention of getting Rachel back. We're not going to go about it like a lynch mob, though. We're going to keep cool, and show the perpetrators they aren't getting to us. Meanwhile, I want you and Andy to go to the Allied Nations and explain the situation. See if you can get everyone involved in the investigation and looking out for the perpetrators. I don't want the scumbags having a crack on this planet to scurry in to. We'll pool our resources and hunt them down like dogs." Nell stood up, the fire in her eyes fading but her face still resolute. "And when we find them, they'll wish they were never born."

**Abandoned Base, Calw, Int'l Zone India-3**

Rachel lay on what may have been considered a bed in some parts of the world. With a little imagination, she could almost convince herself there were springs in her mattress. As she stared up at the plain white ceiling, her mind was trying to wrap itself around everything that had happened. _Why me? I don't know the first thing about special operations. There are so many other people who'd be a better choice; why did he pick me?_ Rachel could literally assemble a completely random crowd of grunts, pick a handful while blindfolded, and form a team that knew more about this sort of thing than she did.

Another thing that bothered her was Hawke's quasi-threat. She didn't think he was threatening her, nor did she believe he was behind the so-called "Blackout Team." Assembling a team to get her only to send Lash to stop them and get her anyway? It was really odd way to go about things. No, she definitely believed he was telling the truth about helping her out: he already had once and knew enough about what was happening to intervene just in the nick of time. _Would he be able to keep my friends safe?_ That was the million dollar question that haunted the girl. Would he really look after them? She planned to find out when she wasn't too tired to think straight. Too many things were happening so fast and she was struggling to keep her head above water. For now, she just needed to take things one step at a time and hope she didn't walk off a cliff.

**Machine Shop 2, Abandoned Base**

Lash was busy digging through a pile of scrap when Hawke entered the cluttered workshop. As he walked through the large hangar door, he was immediately hit by the biting odor of grease and steel. Looking around the vast workshop, he gave a beleaguered sigh. How the engineer could find _anything_ in this place was beyond the man. To say it was like a junk yard would be an insult to junk yards. God only knew what was living in all the scrap piles lying around. Then again, that was assuming _anything_ could survive in here for more than a few hours. That was too much credit to give an organism, even bacteria.

Just in front of the door sat Gustav, facing away from the entrance. The Black Hole commander couldn't help but feel a little respect for it. Well, as much as he could muster for a machine. Gustav had been Lash's prototype Neotank. The very first of what would become a global staple of armored warfare, it had outlived hundreds of its so-called "later and greater" rotund brethren. It was a testament to Lash's engineering prowess and a prime example of getting something right the first time: for all of the modifications to the design that the AN had made, none came close to the original.

"Lash?" He called out.

There was a clanging and rustling as the girl scrambled out from behind a mass of gears, pipes, scrap metal, and assorted parts. "Yeah?"

"Have you made any headway on that problem we discussed?"

Lash wiped her grease-splotched forehead with a sleeve. It left behind more grime than it removed. "Eh, not really. When you get to messing with people's brains, things get _really_ complicated. You can't just override anything and ya gotta be careful with any backdoors you sneak through. Sorry, but I don't have anything that doesn't involve a high chance of permanent damage."

Hawke nodded somberly. He knew all too well what happened when you screwed up a person's head. Flak was never the same after his incident. It was a shame too; the burly man was a great operative with a sharp mind before undergoing mind-altering procedures. Hawke was just too impatient then: his result-centered thinking got the better of him and convinced him to take risks he shouldn't have. It left him with no results and a mentally scrambled subordinate. _Not this time. I won't make the same mistakes_. Contradictory to popular belief, Lash had almost nothing to do with Flak's mental state. The Bundeswehr was experimenting with different procedures that would enhance and suppress certain parts of the brain. The extent of Lash's involvement was keeping the project alive after her being the first major success in a long line of failures. Hawke wasn't proud of his own involvement, but he wasn't going to apologize for it either. The fruits of the project offered memory suppression therapy for soldiers haunted by PTSD or victims of violent crimes; and the enhancement end offered solutions to any disorders linked to diminished brain activity in certain areas. Was it unethical? Oh hell yes, but the benefits ultimately made it worth the cost.

"Keep working on it. Let me know if you make any progress. I'm going to make sure Rachel settled in okay." He said, then turned and left.

"Will do!" she replied, and walked up the ramp into the Neotank. She sat down in the driver's seat to take a break from digging through scrap piles in pursuit of an elusive castellated nut. "Whew!"

A red eye on the control panel focused in on her. "Is everything okay, Mistress Lash?"

"I dunno, Gustav." She said to the computerized male voice as she turned to watch Hawke walk back to the administration building. "Something's up."

"There are many things above our current location."

"I don't mean that." She replied, swiveling back around to the control panel. "It's just that…well, something's bothering him. I've never seen Hawke so…

"Preoccupied?"

"Yeah!"

"He does have a lot on his mind."

"I know: this whole Von Bolt thing…but I don't think that's it. He's just...different for some reason."

How could you tell? He always seems the same to me."

"Oh, whadda _you_ know?"

"My file registry contains seven billion six hundred forty-three million two hundred seventeen thousand five hundred thirty-eight entries on a variety of subjects."

Lash let out a sigh. _Why do machines have to be so…mechanical?_ "Well, _obviously_ 'rhetorical question' isn't one of them!"

"Searching…entry found. A rhetorical question is..."

"Don't tell me! I know what it is!" Lash interjected while closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "Call me crazy, but I think he's a little different now that Rachel's here. He seems kinda distracted...but happy." Well, happy by Hawke standards. Why, though? She knew his story of wanting her to be some kind of special agent, but it didn't take Lash's powers of calculation to see the CO didn't have much to offer in _that_ area.

"Dunno what he wants her for," she said more to herself than anyone else, "But it ain't for this G.I. Joe stuff."

**Author's Notes**

Well, I know I said I had this chapter all figured out. That was about three major re-writes ago. Next time I say that, would someone punch me in the face? Ugh. Still, I think it was worth it and am pretty happy with the way it turned out. I was going to have Gustav speak in small caps, but FFN doesn't support that and I figured all caps would be annoying. Still, regular quotes doesn't seem mechanical enough for a machine. W/e. Thanks for reading.

~Ghost


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Allied Nations Headquarters, Hudson, Orange Star, Cosmo Land**

It took a couple of days for everyone to answer the call, but they always made time. Gathered in the General Assembly were old friends and colleagues: Max and Andy representing Orange Star, Grit and Sasha present for Blue Moon, Eagle and Jess in the name of Green Earth, and but not least, the imperial ambassadors Sonja and Grimm. Considering the great working relationship between all present, there was no need for a Secretary General: the respect everyone had for each other guaranteed everyone would have their say. All eyes turned towards Max and Andy, who had called the emergency session.

"Sorry to drag you all here on such short notice," Max started, "but this is something that just couldn't wait for our scheduled meeting. You might have heard, but I'll just say it anyway: Rachel's been kidnapped."

A few gasps broke the silence that followed the statement. "I heard something along those lines." Eagle said. "Please do send my sincerest condolences to your Commander-in-Chief."

"How did it happen?" Sasha asked with a heartbroken look on her face.

"Several days ago," Max explained, "…there was an attack on her home. Eye witnesses claim a black tank drove away from the scene with Rachel on board. We don't know a whole lot about what happened. There's been some progress in the investigation, but no major breakthroughs.

"Has there been any ransom note? Any threats to harm her?" Jess queried.

Max shook his head.

"So we probably aren't dealing with terrorists, kidnappers, or guerillas looking for a hostage." Sonja concluded.

"Dunno." Andy chimed in. "Haven't heard from them yet, but we don't want to give them too much time."

"Yep. No tellin' what them fellers're up to." Grit added.

"Nope. It doesn't make things any easier, either." Max said. "Anyway, I'm here to ask for your cooperation in finding her."

"You've got it!" Eagle said. "Green Earth will be happy to help you out any way you need!"

"I'd be honored to take part in the investigation." Sonja added.

"Don't worry bud." Grit reassured. "We'll get Nell's sis back in time fer dinner!"

"Thanks guys. It means a lot." Max said sitting back down. It may take some time to get all the details ironed out, but at least everyone was ready, willing, and able. _Those kidnappers don't know the world of shit they're in for!_

**Abandoned Base, Calw, Int'l Zone India-3**

The sound of her door slamming open jerked Rachel out of a deep sleep. She sat up and saw Hawke standing over her bed holding a bundle of clothes and a pair of ankle-high mountain combat boots. "Rise and shine."

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" She groaned in response.

He dropped the bundle and boots in her lap. "Hope these fit. Get dressed and meet me in the bailey. We have a lot to do today."

"We?"

"Yes, _we_. Hurry up: you have a lot to learn and no time for finesse."

He turned and left, allowing Rachel to get out of bed and dress herself. She looked herself over when she finished tying her shoes. _Woodland Flecktarn battledress with matching boots. Very fashionable_.

She stepped outside the barracks to the base's airstrip. Hawke stood in front of a table covered with equipment. Behind him was a large black jet. It's design was an interesting mix of a sloped fuselage with delta wings, and two large engines inserted into the wings each with a fin on top. Its sleek curves and black skin gave it an ominous bird-of-prey appearance. Hawke waited patiently for her, dressed in a similar manner as she was plus some extra gear. When she approached him, he grabbed a harness covered in pouches and handed it to her. "Rachel, say hello to ALICE."

"Uh…hi?"

"This is the All-purpose Lightweight Individual Carry Equipment system, a.k.a ALICE. Get used to it: you'll be wearing it a lot."

She took the harness and slipped it on. "Great. Now what?"

He tossed her an asspack. "You'll need that too. And take this radio."

She fastened the bag onto her belt behind her back and grabbed the radio. "Anything else? I'm sure we can squeeze the kitchen sink in here before we go."

"Cute." Hawke said, grabbing a pistol. "You're going to need that spunk after we jump."

"Jump?"

"This is the P Twelve. It's chambered for the nine millimeter Parabellum cartridge and has an extended threaded barrel for suppressors."

"I'm sorry, did you say 'jump'?" she said, taking the handgun.

"And here we have the Gewehr Twenty-Two." He said, picking up a large scoped rifle. "It shoots the three thirty-eight Lapua magnum and can reach out and touch someone up to fifteen hundred meters away. I'll carry it and the HK Four-Sixteen on the way down."

Rachel could feel her mouth drying up and sweat starting to line her forehead. "Down?"

Hawke shouldered the rifle and grabbed one last pack and a tank. "And _this_ is your parachute and oxygen."

_Oh god no_. Suddenly, a lump formed in her throat. "Just what the hell are we _doing_?"

"I don't have time to teach you the conventional way." He replied, putting on his parachute. "So you'll have to learn by doing. First thing on the list: the HALO jump."

The girl had a queasy feeling deep in her stomach. "HALO?"

"High Altitude, Low Opening. We jump from around eleven kilometers and freefall to around one kilometer off the ground before opening our chutes."

Rachel felt like she was going to be sick. Hawke noticed she was upset and gave her a smile. "Don't worry. It's quite a rush."

"I'm sure it is." She moaned.

**Ebony Woods Airspace**

The experimental jet shot through the clear skies like a black arrowhead, its engines emitting a thunderous roar fitting for the great warbird. Rachel and Hawke sat across from each other in a cargo area as Lash piloted the aircraft. The Orange Star CO couldn't help but be impressed by the crazy scientist's work: the aircraft implemented a few simple concepts into a brilliant package. Dubbed the_Reichsadler_ by Lash, it was a V/STOL jet. Instead of taking off by tearing down a long runway, it built up a little speed and lifted off with a burst of vertical thrust. It was much safer and more fuel efficient than a vertical take-off, and still cut the launch distance by a lot. In addition, the _Reichsadler_ could be fitted with surveillance equipment, literally creating an "eye in the sky." The recon potential, plus the shorter launch distance, plus the radar stealth design made for a nasty tool in any CO's disposal; though Sonja and Eagle in particular would've drooled over it. For a long time, Rachel didn't think much of Lash, but she was developing a respect for what the girl could do with a little imagination and a lot of parts. The _Reichsadler_ wouldn't be raining down hot death any time soon: it didn't have room for _any_ weaponry, but the sheer versatile nature of the craft plus the marriage of several innovations made for one mind-blowing marvel of engineering. Rachel would have been very impressed if she didn't have to jump out of the thing and plummet to what could only be certain grisly death.

Hawke stood up and leaned through the open door leading to the cockpit. "It's time, Lash." The girl flipped a switch and the aft loading ramp began to lower. "Good luck you two!" Cold air came rushing in through the opening as Hawke turned towards Rachel and tried to yell over the howling wind and engines. "Alright Rachel! Time to jump!"

The girl was glued to her seat. "Uh-uh!" She said, shaking her head.

"Let's go!"

"No way!" Her fingers clamped around her crash harness as though it was made of gold

Hawke walked over to her and tried to wrestle her out of the seat. "C'mon! Do it for Nell!"

"Even Nell isn't worth this!" she squeaked, fighting to stay put.

"I can always have Lash jettison the chair if you'd rather!"

She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Don't make me do this!"

"Jake needs you!"

"I'm scared!"

"Is that what you'll say at Jess' memorial service? 'I was scared'?"

_Ouch. That was a low blow._She gritted her teeth and undid her crash webbing with trembling hands. Hawke gently helped her out of the chair and half-carried the terrified girl to the edge of the ramp. She took one look at the ground, and latched on to a hydraulic cylinder that lowered the ramp. "You sure we can't just drive where we need to go!"

"You're really that scared!"

Rachel nodded frantically.

He looked at her with bitter disappointment and turned on his radio. "Lash? Let's head back to base. She's not gonna do it." Back to Rachel. "Fine. You don't have to jump!"

"I don't!"

"No!"

The girl finally felt like she could breathe. She relaxed a little. "Oh thank god! _That's_ a relief!"

When she released her vise-grip on the cylinder and held on loosely with one hand, Hawke placed a boot on her rump and gave her a shove.

**Ebony Woods**

Rachel never thought she'd be so happy to be stuck in a tree. She dangled in the breeze, her parachute caught in the branches. _I'm going to kill that son of a bitch_. She heard footsteps approaching. "What are you doing up there?"

She looked down and saw Hawke looking up to her. "I'm thinking of the best way to kick your ass when I get down!"

"Take out your knife and cut yourself free. We don't have time to waste."

Grateful he spared her from a bad pun, Rachel looked herself over and found a knife sheath on her left shoulder. She pulled the knife out, sliced through a few straps, and landed hard on her face when she hit the ground. "Oof."

Hawke helped her to her feet, and she quickly wrapped her hands around his throat. "What the fuck is _wrong with you_! I could have _died_!"

He broke her grasp and grinned at her. "But you didn't. Aerial insertion is going to be the _only_ way to get you where you need to be. For the sake your loved ones, I hope you can bite the bullet when the _real_ mission starts."

The girl calmed down and took a second to recover from the ordeal. When she'd stabilized, she unstrapped her parachute pack. "So, why are we here?"

"This is a simulated exercise. Here, you'll learn skills vital to your upcoming assignment: shooting, sneaking, finding food…things like that."

"A training mission? What's the objective?"

"Simple. We return to base and survive anything we encounter on the way."

_Great_. "Which way?"

Hawke shrugged. "You tell me."

"How should I know?"

"Check your pack."

Rachel unhooked the pack and opened it. _A ration pack, some medical supplies…oh, a map. Duh._ She unfolded it and looked it over. There was a dot labeled "Insertion Point." Northwest of it was another labeled "Objective." She checked the distance. _Eighty miles? That's insane!_ "Eighty miles to the Northwest." She looked at the compass on her watch and pointed to her right. "That way. We're not seriously walking the whole way, are we?"

"Unless you can fly."

"Ugh."

"We better get moving. The sooner we get done the sooner we can go after Bolt."

**Command Center, Abandoned Base**

After the two had jumped, Lash took her latest accomplishment back to the base. Having roots in Black Hole's paratrooper divisions, the KSK base had a runway and a few hangars: one of which served as her workshop. Another housed her new creation. As the girl entered the old war room in the basement of the administration building, she congratulated herself on a successful first flight. She walked through a large room filled with old computers and communication equipment until she stopped in a room that housed the facility's central computer. The antique ran all of the other systems on the base, though Lash didn't understand how: the thing was older than she was. She walked over to it and flipped the switch. The room-sized unit flared to life with a hum and lit the room with a myriad of colors. She turned and walked to a computer station in the previous room and booted it up. "Alrighty." The girl muttered, popping her fingers. "Let the games begin."

**Ebony Woods**

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Rachel asked.

"I'm following you."

"Gee, thanks." Rachel said while looking around at the dense woods. "We've been walking for _hours_."

The two made their way through the woods, stepping through foliage and moss covered rocks. As they traveled, Rachel took in all the sounds of the forest: the wind rustling through the trees, various birds chirping, the sound of a small river flowing, a whirling sound that reminded her of an RC helicopter…_what_? She stopped and held out a hand. "You hear that?"

Hawke listened closely, and nodded. "Over here." He whispered, darting over to a patch of ferns and lying down on his stomach. "Get down."

Rachel ran over beside him and dropped to the ground. "What is it?"

The man held a finger to his lips and watched for any movement. The girl kept quiet and scanned the wilderness with her charcoal eyes. After a few seconds, the whirling got louder as though the source were heading towards them. Finally, Hawke saw a small device floating around the area and gave his partner a nudge. She followed his line of sight and spotted what could only be described as a camera with a propeller and gun mounted on it, all of which housed in a teardrop-shaped body. "The hell is that?" she whispered.

"Don't move." He replied. "Stay absolutely still."

The device hovered over to just a few feet away from their hiding spot and panned the area. When its mechanical eye fixed itself on the ferns the two were hiding in, Rachel's blood ran cold. _Oh god, it's spotted us._ Hawke didn't move a muscle; just watched and waited as though he and the drone were having a stare down. A few tense seconds passed until the device turned away from them and began to float elsewhere. Slowly so as not to attract the drone's attention, he drew his pistol and leveled it at the thing. The shot rang out, followed by a clang as the mass of electronics fell to the ground.

"For a second there, I thought it saw us." Rachel said.

"It did." Hawke said, getting up.

"What? Why didn't it shoot?" she wondered, getting to her feet.

"_Seeing_ you and _recognizing_ you are two different things." Hawke explained, holstering his gun. "Enemies will always see you. It's whether they think they're looking at a person or a patch of moss that matters. Don't get scared just because someone's looking at you. If they act like they see a person, _then_ you can worry."

Rachel nodded in understanding and checked her watch to orient herself. "This way."

"Keep an eye out." Hawke warned. "No telling how many others are out here."

**Command Center, Abandoned Base**

"Aww, they got past my first drone." Lash said, slightly disappointed. She had looked forward to the simulation ever since Hawke started preparations for it. Rachel had driven her crazy for the last several months by breathing down her neck about the restoration: a little harmless payback was in order and she was in the prime position to deliver it. She noticed Hawke admiring his handiwork. The girl had to admit, it was really different seeing the man in combat gear. He really seemed to know what he was doing, which was a drastic change from the aloof commander she was accustomed to. It really made her wonder what he did before she met him.

She pushed the question aside and continued to watch him lead Rachel around by the nose. The blonde was so out of place it was ridiculous. Lash felt like Hawke had to baby the girl though the last several hours of the mission. _Why, though_? He couldn't be stupid enough expect her to play this kind of role in what would be going down. Why was he doing all this? Lash trusted his judgment, but couldn't help but question _this_ decision. There had to be something else going on. Maybe he was going to lure Rachel into the woods under the premise of training, then take her hostage and torture Orange Star military secrets out of her. Or was he going to outright kill her someplace where no one would ever find her? Or was it something entirely different? She didn't know what he had in mind, and it was starting to bother her.

On the monitor, she saw Rachel slip off of a mossy rock and fall face first into a puddle. "Hehehe…enjoying the hike, nature girl? Betcha wanna get back to that office about now." Then she saw something she couldn't believe. It hit Lash like a lightning bolt. Hawke dropped to a knee beside her. Softly taking her hand in his, the two rose together. Rachel's grey eyes looked into Hawke's and she flashed him a smile. He then retrieved a towel from his pack and offered it to the girl to wipe her face off. Lash's lip curled as she watched. Hawke was _her _friend! They looked after _each other_! How _dare_ she make him fawn over her like that? Who was she to get all touchy-feely with _her_ friend and CO? _If she's got time to hold hands with _my _friend, she's not challenged enough. Well _I_ can fix that!_ The engineer typed away on her computer, altering the programmed mission. Hawke had a certain list of obstacles and scenarios he wanted run at certain times, but the idea was to teach the blonde how to handle the Special Operations lifestyle, right? And what Spec Op soldier didn't find themselves in a firefight now and then? "Oh, she'll learn what it's like to play soldier. I'll give her an initiation she won't forget!"

**Ebony Woods**

The blonde suppressed a gag as she looked at her next meal. "No. Friggin'. Way."

Hawke looked at the spider he had just boiled. "Why not? This one's got more meat on its bones that most other spiders you'll find."

Rachel couldn't take her eyes off of the fat, hairy mass of legs. "I _hate_ spiders!"

"I didn't ask you to befriend it." Hawke said. "You won't be able to carry enough food with you on these kinds of missions, so you'll have to rely on what nature provides."

"Can't I just eat fruit or something?"

"You need protein."

She grimaced. Her stomach was growling and spiders were the only thing they could catch. As disgusted as she was, she need to eat _something_. "Fine. Let's just get it over with." She said squeezing her eyes shut and opening her mouth.

As Hawke went to put the spider the spider on her tongue, he noticed a familiar sound. _Check that: several familiar sounds_. From his seated position, Hawke couldn't see the drones but he definitely heard around five. Rachel noticed too and opened her eyes. "What is it?"

Hawke drew his pistol, inspiring her to ready the assault rifle she'd been carrying the last few miles. "Not sure. But there's more than one of it." _We aren't supposed to encounter more of these for another two kilometers. What's going on?_

The two dove for cover in a patch of tall grass and watched. Rachel noticed some concern on Hawke's multicolored face. The two had opted to paint their faces to better hide themselves, but it couldn't mask the hint of surprise the man was trying to suppress. "Something wrong?"

"Wasn't expecting company so soon." Hawke answered. "Keep still. They shouldn't notice us."

Any hopes of skipping a fight were dashed when a gunshot cut through the silence and a thud came from tree a foot away from Rachel's head. "I think they noticed us!" She yelped.

Hawke nodded. "Now you learn how to deal with an enemy that sees _and_ recognizes you. Take cover!" He sprang behind a wide tree as Rachel dove behind a slate-grey bolder with moss coating the top. "Now what?" She asked.

"D'you really have to ask?" He said, spinning around and firing and a drone that came in to view.

Rachel popped up from behind the rock and went to aim at a drone. Closing her left eye and sticking her tongue out in concentration, she tried to center the red dot sight on the floating gun. She pulled the trigger and missed completely. _Dammit! I'm no good at this!_ Trying again, she tried to put the dot right in the middle of the teardrop-shaped body of the drone. This time, she did a double tap; missing both times. The drone turned away from Hawke and started in her direction as she frantically tried again. Her hands trembling slightly with nerves, she missed the drone with both shots: the first one too low. The second shot flew high and right, hitting a drone that flanked the one she was aiming for. _Better than nothing, I guess_. As the drone flew just in front of the rock, it fired a three-shot burst at her. She yelped and rolled out of the way just in time for the shots to tear through where she had just been.

Hawke noticed Rachel was in a bind and quickly popped out from behind cover. He dispatched the drone with a double-tap from his pistol, but not before a third drone took a shot at him. He let out a grunt and grabbed his upper left arm. Gritting his teeth, he ran behind the tree he had been using for cover. As he checked the wound, he was surprised to see blood seeping out of it. _What? They're using_live _ammunition?_ _Lash is going to have some explaining to do._ His temper was rising, but he kept it in check. It wasn't serious: the bullet had merely grazed him. Still, he had specifically told Lash to use paintballs: _not_ live cartridges.

"Hawke!" Rachel cried out, seeing him clutch his arm. "You okay!"

"I'm fine." He answered, readying his weapon and bringing his attention back to the skirmish. Rachel got behind the boulder again and started shooting at the drone that nicked Hawke. After three shots, she finally brought it down. She couldn't help feeling a little proud. The drones must have had a little AI programming, as the fourth realized it was beaten and started to flee. Rachel scrambled over the boulder and took aim. Switching the rifle to full-auto mode, she let out a hail of gunfire. Much to her surprise, the rifle's muzzle climbed upwards after a few seconds, every shot missing the teardrop-shaped robot. Hawke ran up beside her and snatched the gun away from her. "Knock that off!"

He set the gun back to semi-auto and jammed it into her hands. "Try it again, but _aim_ this time."

Rachel took aim at the fleeing drone, struggling to center the red dot on its gradually shrinking body. She fired a few times, missing each one. When the drone had vanished into the forest, she let out a frustrated growl. "Dammit! It got away!" She spun around to face Hawke. "What were you doing grabbing the gun like that! I could've gotten it!"

Hawke shook his head. "Fully automatic is only for desperate last stands or suppressing fire when no SAW is available. _Neither_ applies here."

"But I can't _hit_ anything when I do single shots!"

"You got two of them."

"Yeah! By pure luck! At least with fully auto, I have a chance to hit something!"

Hawke shook his head disapprovingly. "No possible rate of fire can atone for habitual careless aim with the first shot. Just because this rifle can shoot fifteen rounds a second with full auto doesn't mean _any_ will hit your target if you don't _aim_. If you _do_ aim carefully, you won't need that many shots."

Rachel calmed down and nodded. He was right. It wasn't his fault she was a bad shot, and emptying a full magazine on a target she couldn't hit in the first place wouldn't make her make her more accurate. Hawke turned on his radio. "Lash, do you read me?"

"Yeah boss!"

"We just got attacked by some of your drones."

"I know; I sent them." She explained. "I figured Blondie was ready for some real action!"

Hawke took a deep breath, again fighting to keep his temper controlled. He had spent a lot of time constructing a training mission with one specific thing in mind: critical thinking. He knew he didn't have the two months of basic training with another two to three years of active duty "on the job training" to spend preparing the girl. Instead, he focused on one thing that was vital: honing her mind. Developing her so-called "warrior instinct." He couldn't make her a Navy SEAL in one week. He _could_ teach her how to analyze her situation and find the best course of action, though. He _could_ teach her how to use the environment to her advantage and how best to deal with many challenges the battlefield presented. She may have been able to do this while commanding armies, but to do it in actual combat was different. This drill wasn't about dropping her into adverse situations and hoping she made it out okay; it was about shaping her mind into a more dangerous weapon than any gun or knife. Lash had just sent all that work down the tubes, which didn't make Hawke happy one bit.

"Well she's not. If you have any other surprises, I want you to get rid of them _now_. Secondly, would you like to tell me why your toys are shooting_bullets_?"

"Oops. Don't worry! I'll fix it!"

"You do that. Hawke out." He went over to where their gear was laid out, sat down, and let out a deep breath. "Remind me to get Lash a self-kicking ass."

"For when you're not around to do it?" Rachel said walking over to him.

"She means well. Her enthusiasm just gets out from under her sometimes."

"I wouldn't have guessed." She said, sitting down. She then noticed blood seeping through his upper left sleeve. "Is it bad?"

Hawke looked at it. "Not as bad as it could have been. I meant to break you in a little more gently. You weren't supposed to learn battlefield medicine until later, but I guess now is as good a time as any. Go get the field dressing kit out of my bag."

**Command Center, Abandoned Base**

Lash pulled up the program that altered the drone behavior. They were run by a central AI, so she couldn't completely control them without reprogramming the AI unit. She could, however, give them parameters to operate in such as waiting in ambush versus actively seeking targets. In addition, the girl could adjust the perceptiveness of the drones, ranging from oblivious almost clairvoyant. She could also activate a combat inhibitor that would disable the real guns on the drone while leaving the paintball guns active. Originally, these drones were intended for real battlefield use to compensate for dwindling infantry numbers near the end of the Omega Land War, meaning they were built with real weaponry. She had modified the ones kept here for this mission so that Hawke could put Rachel in dangerous positions without the real danger. In her eagerness to kick things up a notch, she forgot all about them having the real guns when she disabled the inhibitor.

She started to alter the tactics used by the AI, but changed her mind when she thought of Hawke getting shot for real. _Probably should change that first_. She closed down the tactics window and pulled up the combat inhibitor interface. "Okay, just gotta tick this one checkbox and…"

Suddenly, the main computer for the base started to hiss and smoke as sparks shot out of the outdated wiring. The console Lash was working in winked out. "Uh oh." She muttered. "Oh no…"

She trotted over to the central computer room and looked it over. It was still running, but some of the wiring was fried. She ran back in to the war room and tried to access the drone management program on other consoles, but to no avail. The engineer swallowed. The AI was programmed right into the central computer of the base. If it was still running there was pretty good chance the drone AI was too. Lash could see, however, that the wiring that ran the drone program console was roached and no other console had access to the program. This meant that her only means of making adjustments to the drone behavior was dead as a hammer. "Great." She pulled her radio out of a coat pocket. "Uh guys? We've got a slight problem."

**Author's Notes**

Didn't originally plan on spending any time on Rachel's training regime. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized I couldn't just gloss over it. Well, I couldn't gloss over it without it feeling like I completely skipped something, so here it is for better or worse. Also, as I started writing about the _Reichsadler_, one question popped up: why _doesn't_ AW have some kind of long-range recon plane? That was the first role aircraft ever played in warfare. Oh well, guess I'll have to stick with the ground recon that can somehow see for miles and miles over mountains and through forests. Lastly, I've noticed that some changes made to documents I save to FFN don't actually stay when I save the document. Specifically, I've made some punctuation corrections that don't seem to stick, so apologies for that. Don' t know why, but from now own I"ll just do all my editing in Word and upload the finished draft. Also, I'll try to take less time getting the next chapter up. As usual, thanks for reading.

~Ghost


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Ebony Woods**

Three days. It had been three days since Hawke and Rachel dropped into the woods in an effort to prepare the girl for the hardships that would come with her upcoming mission and Lash had set the drones to "Murder Mode." The engineer decided to be cute and sick her mechanical hounds on the two with loaded guns. Rachel couldn't believe she was still alive: the things were _relentless_. You ran from them, and they followed. You stood and fought, they just kept coming. It was like being in a horror movie: you couldn't run and you couldn't hide. She slowed to a stop and called out to her partner to do the same. Hawke turned and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"For a person who's spent the last few days running for her life, living off of spiders, lizards, and small birds, who's being hunted by mini-attack helicopters…I'd say I'm just _peachy_." She panted.

"We can't sit still for too long. They're bound to catch up."

"Are you _sure_ Lash can't do anything?"

Hawke shook his head. They had pestered the girl several times about putting her drones back on their leashes ever since she told them what happened. With the computer that ran the combat inhibitor and tactical behavior software for the drones out of commission, Hawke and Rachel had literally been thrown to the wolves: the scientist had no way of disabling the guns or toning down the aggressive behavior of the machines. Since the computer was so old, Lash couldn't simply pop out the damaged components and replace them with ones from Radio Shack. She couldn't even build a computer to replace the damaged one since the software she needed was only on the one that got fried. She told them she would try to rip the program off of the hard-drive and drop it onto a working computer, but that had yet to succeed. For all intents and purposes, Hawke and she were shit outta luck.

Rachel checked the magazines for her weapons. _Twenty shots left in the assault rifle, a full magazine in the pistol, and I haven't even touched the G Twenty-Two yet. _"I gotta stop for a minute."

Hawke checked his watch. "Alright. Five minutes."

The two sat down beside each other as the man reloaded his magazines. The girl looked at him with slight admiration. For a man who had spent most of his time commanding armies, he was handling this pretty well. "You really seem to know what you're doing out here. Where did you learn all this?"

He shrugged. "Most of it is pretty elementary."

"You're full of it." she said, digging out a bag of loose five fifty-six millimeter cartridges to top off her magazine. "I never learned anything like this in the Orange Star Army. You're trying to tell me that the soldiers of Black Hole learn this in basic training?"

"Sonderbarkeit." He said, slipping a cartridge into a mag pouch and pulling out another empty one.

"What?"

"Sonderbarkeit soldiers, if you don't mind."

Rachel understood and nodded. All the countries of Wars World had two names: an actual name, and what was formerly an official codename. The latter were used in military lexicon a very long time ago, but had caught on with the general public. Long after their use had died away, people still used them to refer to their countries; making them a de facto name of sorts. The Stellara Union had become known as Orange Star. Still, people took national identity very personally, and citizens of the country would never call themselves "Orange Starian." Despite Orange Star being a universally accepted name for the country, they still called themselves Stellarans, and Rachel had no reason to believe Black Hole was any different. "Alright, Sonderbarkeit soldiers then. The point is, this goes beyond your basic training and conditioning. Where did you learn all of this stuff?"

"A little here, a little there."

"You're not going to give me a straight answer, are you?"

Hawke slid the newly loaded magazine next to the other one. "If I asked you if you expected an honest answer, would your answer to my question be the same as mine to yours?"

"Uh…" Rachel scratched her head as she tried to work that one out.

Hawke let out a chuckle at her confusion.

"You're laughing! I thought you never laughed!"

"I guess the mountain air is doing me good." He checked his watch. "We need to press on."

They got to their feet and started walking again. Rachel wouldn't argue about the soothing nature of the mountains. There were a lot of things she didn't like about this exercise, but the environment wasn't one of them. "It's so beautiful here. What _is _this place?"

"The Ebony Woods. They cover much of Omega Land, and used to be a prime hiking spot when this was Sonderbarkeit territory. Of course, this particular patch of forest is part of the KSK base, so it's been far less traversed than other areas."

"KSK…you've mentioned that before. What is it?"

"It _was _the Sonderbarkeit special forces, akin to the Stellaran Delta Force or Navy SEALS."

"Were they a 'jack of all trades' group?"

"The KSK was divided into different platoons that each dealt with specific types of operations. Second Platoon handled intelligence gathering and airborne operations, for example." He turned and looked at her. "In better days, they were the pride of the Bundeswehr."

"Better days?"

"The commander of the KSK was a fervent opponent of Sturm. When the dark horse rose to power, he made certain to do away with his strongest opposition and greatest threat. Now, the once unstoppable force is just a footnote in a second rate history book." Rachel saw a hint of bitter resentment in his voice as he spoke and he quickly to change the subject. "Enough about that, though. How does this compare to your old job?"

"No contest." Rachel said, looking at the ground. "I've always taken a supporting role in Orange Star. Handling logistics, training people, that sort of thing. I've never done any real fighting…nothing like what we've done the last few days."

"I'm sorry you've been dropped head first in to things."

"I'm not." she said, smiling. Hawke couldn't help but notice how the dirt, bruises, and wear from the exercise hadn't done a thing to tarnish her pretty face. The smile was bright and energetic: radiating with optimism and eagerness.

Hawke gave her a confused look. "Really?"

She shook her head. "I'm kinda ashamed to admit it, but I wasn't happy with my job. I was told it was the most important job in the world: rebuilding a country shattered by war. Making the land beautiful again, like it is here. I wasn't happy though. It was...it was…_unfulfilling_. Every day, I'd have to deal with nothing. No problems, no challenges…_nothing_. I got paid to sit around and sign forms, and I _hated it_. Since this whole thing happened though, I've been challenged. I've had problems to overcome. It's hard and I've pushed myself to the limit to stay alive these last few days, but you know what? I'm _satisfied._ It's not fun or easy, but I can look at everything I've overcome in just this short time and take pride in what I've accomplished."

Hawke stopped and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "You've come a long way."

She smiled at the complement. Her fear was she was a dead weight on the man, making him look out for her _and_ himself. To hear him say she was making progress, whether it was true or not, was much needed praise that quieted her anxiety some. The moment was shattered by an all too familiar sound. He looked around, trying to spot the source of the whirring noise they had come to dread. "But I'm afraid we still have a ways to go."

Rachel spun around, dropped to a knee, and readied her rifle in one fluid motion. The man couldn't help but be impressed. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she centered the red dot on a drone about ninety meters away. The gun jerked as she fired, and the drone fell to the ground.

"And you said you couldn't shoot." Hawke mused as he walked off.

"Yeah, well three days of nothing _but_ shooting will do that for you." She shot back as she trotted after him.

**Black Hole, Ebony Woods, Clearing**

They kept moving until the sun fell below the horizon and stars dotted the night sky. After finding a good spot to camp, Rachel laid down to get some much needed rest. As she lay on the ground, her eyes closed, Hawke checked to see if she was awake. After nudging her a few times, he walked about ten meters away from the camp, turned on his radio, and spoke softly. "Lash, are you there?"

There were a few seconds of silence before she answered. "Yeah boss?"

"What have you found out about Reverie?"

"Not much we don't already know. It was a research project that eventually developed the Reverie Serum. It's an injection full of nano-bots that travel to the brain and suppress all memories that precede the serum taking effect."

"How does it work?"

"Think of it in computer terms. When you delete a file, it's not really gone. The computer marks it as 'free space' even though the data is still there. Basically, it doesn't recognize the information as stored data; therefore you can't access it using conventional means despite it not actually going anywhere. Well, at least not for some time."

"So?"

"Reverie works on a similar principle. The nano-bots enter the memory centers in the brain and alter the biochemistry so that the brain doesn't see the memories for what they are. It thinks they are something else, thus the person doesn't remember the information the brain used to construct a memory. It's still there, but the brain doesn't realize it: kinda like a computer file still technically being on the hard-drive but the computer doesn't see it because it's marked as something else."

"Have you found a way to reverse the effects?"

"Not really, but it breaks down over time. The person who underwent Reverie treatment will eventually remember what was covered up. Other than that, I got nothing."

Hawke let out a sigh. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he expected as much. "Keep working on it, and let me know what you find."

"Will do. Oh, Hawke?"

"What?"

"I'm so sorry. I should never have messed with the programmed mission."

"It's alright Lash. We're doing just fine as is. Hawke out."

Rachel opened her eyes and noticed Hawke was gone. She sat up and looked around. Not seeing any sign of him, she started looking for clues. A quick scan of the grown showed a boot print. _Had he just wandered off_? She noticed a set of footprints in the soft dirt next to her, as though someone was standing looking at her. Just behind them was a trail heading off to the South. As silently as she could, she crept along the ground, hoping to avoid drawing any attention from those damned drones. As she kept going, she heard Hawke's voice. She could hear him asking about something called "Reverie." _What's that? Some project he has Lash working on?_ Then she heard him ask about reversing the effects, seemingly disappointed with whatever Lash told him but not surprised. _What's going on? What is he talking about?_ She heard him sign off and walk back towards their camp. She lay perfectly still as he strolled past her. After his footsteps faded, she stood up and headed back as well. She took an indirect route so Hawke wouldn't think she was following him. Clearly this wasn't something she was supposed to hear if he waited until he thought she was asleep _and_ walked out of earshot. Despite the two being in the same boat, and her survival largely in his hands, Rachel still didn't trust Hawke completely; and her instincts told her the last thing she wanted was for him to think she'd eavesdropped on the conversation.

Rachel approached the campsite from the West and Hawke looked at her with a concerned look on her face. "Where were you?"

"Needed to take a leak." she lied. "Where were _you_?"

He eyed her for a second. "Thought I heard something. Didn't want those machines getting the drop on us."

"So you wander off by yourself to get singled out and killed?" She tried to shift the focus on to him and away from her fib.

He shrugged. "You looked comfortable. I didn't want to disturb you for no reason."

There was an awkward moment where they exchanged looks of subtle suspicion. "We should probably get some sleep." She said, lying down. "We got a ways to go still."

"Right." Hawke eventually said, lying down.

Rachel pulled a blanket over her and rolled on to her side. It was late and she was tired, but she didn't feel like sleeping all of a sudden. A friendship was threatening to blossom between her and the older man. After all they'd shared and helped each other through in this short time span, Rachel was started to feel comfortable around him. His actions tonight, however, reminded her that Hawke was not known for transparency and openness. The strange man had been an enemy of hers longer than he had been an ally, and she couldn't afford to forget that.

**Vorpommern Island, Black Hole, Cosmo Land**

Getting Team 101 together was no simple task. They were scattered all over the globe performing different operations at the behest of the SD: a secret organization the warlord used to keep his presence felt and feared. Though they were a team, it had actually been around five years since they had worked together on a mission. It was deemed a more appropriate use of their talents for them to each perform individual operations. Major Bauer could understand why, but having them all together was also a powerful psychological weapon: there was little that could sober a man up as fast as seeing the five members together. Well, four members now: Button, or The Button Man as his teammates called him, wouldn't be participating in this operation. The former mobster from Orange Star was out of the fight for good.

The Major and his leader stood at the far end of the table as the first member of the team entered the conference room. He was of average build, with light brown hair and blue eyes. The man was from Black hole, and definitely had the accent when he spoke. Bauer could easily identify him as the leader of the team: he carried the aura of authority, and was possibly the only would who could around this group and still live to see tomorrow. He walked around to the right side of the table to the second to last chair and stood waiting for the rest of his team.

Right after him, a woman with shining black hair walked in; her feet not making a sound. Looking to be around twenty five, her face showed her Yellow Comet ancestry. Her haunting gaze seemed to look into your soul. She stood just a few inches shorter than the man, her long black hair resembling a nun's veil. She moved over to her leader's right as the third member arrived.

He was around the same height as the team leader with short brown hair, hazel eyes, and bandoleers looped over each shoulder. The leader and the woman couldn't have been older than twenty-five, but this man looked around ten years older. He had a banged up face with a scar running down his left cheek and spoke with a Blue Moon accent. He walked over to the chair opposite the team leader as the final member entered the room.

A large silver cross flickered in the dim light as the tall, blonde haired, green eyed man walked to the chair opposite the girl. Complementing his height was a muscular build which gave the man a daunting look He too was in his twenties, and Bauer remembered him speaking with a clipped Green Earth accent with trilled R's. When they all finished entering, they turned their heads in unison and looked at Sturm and the Major.

"I appreciate you all coming on such short notice." The warlord replied, the usual air of superiority absent in his voice. Major Bauer wasn't sure if it was refreshing or unnerving to hear his leader speak as though among equals. "I have a mission for you of the upmost urgency."

"Of course." The leader said in a low, monotone voice. "What is it?"

"A young woman named Rachel. She was an Orange Star CO overseeing the land restoration of Omega Land. She has something very important to me."

"And?"

"I want it destroyed."

The man blinked in slight confusion. "That's all?"

"There's more to it." The warlord said with uncharacteristic patience. "She has gone missing, with the item in her possession. I want her found and killed. Then, I want you to find the ones who took her and kill them as well. I don't care how so long as it's done post haste."

"Don't worry. It will be taken care of. You can count on us."

With a bow, the four turned and left.

"I always could." The warlord mumbled when they had left. "Major Bauer?"

"Yes my lord?"

"I want you to select some troops to serve as their support. Choose only the absolute best."

"Right away, my lord." He turned to leave, but stopped. "My lord, may I ask what is so important about the letter?"

"It contains information that must never see the light of day. That is all you need to know. No go."

With a bow, Bauer turned and left.

**Ebony Woods**

"Got it." Hawke said, looking through binoculars. "About eight hundred meters, ten o'clock low."

Rachel turned the large rifle around towards where Hawke said and peered through the scope. "Hmmm...don't see it. You sure?"

"Positive. It's just beside the overgrown shrubbery to left of that hollowed-out log."

She checked again. After a few seconds, she could see the slight glint of moonlight off of the steel casing of an automated turret. It looked so tiny from such a distance, but Rachel figured it was better to spot it from way back here than for it to spot them. "Ah, yeah. I see it now."

More importantly, though, she could see the lights of the KSK compound in the distance. They had made good time, but that was more out of necessity than choice. The two couldn't afford to get too comfortable in the scenic woods. Shifting her focus back to the turret, she tried to center the crosshairs on the device, but found it harder than originally thought. Not only was the thing tiny, but parallax was proving to be a formidable enemy. It was one thing to line up a target with the reticule. It was another to center the reticule in the scope's optical axis. Getting both to happen at the same time was really starting to piss her off. To make life even better, she wasn't even lining up the center crosshairs. From this distance, she had to use one of the ballistic drop compensator reticules.

Hawke placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Take your time, aim carefully." Rachel stuck her tongue out in concentration. Finally, she squeezed the trigger and the gun let out a thunderous bark.

"That was good." Hawke said. "You got this one on the first try."

She cycled the bolt action and the spent casing tumbled to the ground. "Still getting used to this bull-pup configuration. I don't know what you people were thinking when you designed this thing."

Hawke shrugged. "It allows for a shorter weapon without sacrificing barrel length. Anyway, we should be moving on. Won't be too much longer until we're done with this exercise."

"That doesn't hurt my feelings at all."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'd have thought it would. After this, you'll be doing the real thing."

The blonde scoffed. "Killer robots? Automated turrets? Sounds to me like the real thing should be the warm-up round for this hell!"

Hawke looked off into the distance. _Maybe. Maybe not._

**A****uthor's Notes**

Ugh, not happy with this chapter. Took a long time to put together, and it's pretty short. Sorry for disappearing off the face of the Earth for about two months or so, but I've been in University and got out not too long ago. I'll be studying in Jordan over the summer, so I'll be disappearing for another seven weeks. I really want to get another chapter done at the least before then, but real life will always take priority, and I have a to do list for the study abroad program. Anyway, it's time this story got rolling again, so I will definitely try to get some work done on it and have something to upload within the next few days, inshah allah. Anyway, enough of my whining. As usual, thanks for reading and keep sending suggestions/recommendations.

~Ghost


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Vorpommern Island, Sonderbarkeit, Macro Land**

"Sir, I've finished selecting the support personnel." Major Bauer stated. "Team 101 has moved out."

"Good." Sturm replied. "That's one less thing to worry about. While they're handling busy with, I have a new assignment for you." He handed his second-in-command an envelope. "Now leave me."

"Yessir." He said, taking the envelope and leaving.

Finally alone, Sturm took a PDA out of his pocket and looked at a message that had popped up. Since Rachel had entered the picture, he had made a point to keep his thumb firmly pressed against the pulse of the Allied Nations. After days of waiting, he was confident that this message would confirm what he already suspected.

"_A.N. finalized investigation team. Max Sonja Sasha Javier due at Omega Land HQ 1500. Pulling Sami Jake off Von Bolt mission. Tracking down reported tank and connection with Blackout Team top priority._"

Sturm considered that for a moment. He expected as much, though he wasn't sure if he liked the news or not. The Neotank was the only starting point he had for Team 101, and the chances of them crossing paths with the Allied Nations were pretty good if finding that tank was first on their checklist. He wasn't too worried about the investigation, though. They'd probably be more worried about the tank than the dead soldiers, and it would ultimately lead back to whomever sent it, and more importantly, away from his own involvement in the attack.

He glanced at the clock. _Time for an important meeting_. Major Bauer was invaluable to Sturm's plans, but he was never one to put all his eggs in one basket. He hadn't overthrown Black Hole's government, manipulated his enemies, and evaded capture for so long by not securing an alternative. He had worked much too hard to get where he was to start trusting other people's competence now; Team 101 excluded of course. Tucking the PDA in his pocket, Sturm left the crypt-like haven that had served him for so long; his long black cape flowing behind him.

**KSK Base, Calw, Int'l Zone India-3**

Rachel and Hawke continued in relative silence; a product of renewed suspicions and the awkwardness that came with last night's events. Hawke wasn't a stupid man, and the blond had every reason to assume he knew she heard at least part of his conversation. What he planned to do about it, though, wasn't clear.

_Reverie…_

The word rolled around in her head, conjuring images of a passing dream. What could it mean, and why was Hawke interested in it? Did it have something to do with her upcoming mission? She let out an annoyed sigh. Rachel was, by nature, a nosy person. Nothing drove a nosy person crazy faster than hearing only a crumb of someone's conversation and wondering what it had to do with anything. Uncertainty grabbed the steering wheel of a mind fueled by an insatiable need to know and stomped on the throttle. For now, however, she'd have to live with being in the dark.

Hawke maintained a brisk walk, and made a point to keep ahead of her. He was definitely interested in getting back to the compound post-haste. She couldn't blame him: the drones and turrets had them on the ropes. With little ammo left, and both of them feeling every step of every mile they had traveled, it wouldn't take much more than a popcorn punch from their mechanical pursuers to finish them off. Time was not on their side.

The man came to a dead stop and held up a hand. "Wait." The sounds of the forest continued their ecological symphony as they both listened for a sound neither wanted to hear. Rachel listened intently for the slightest hum, but heard nothing. Nothing in the world sounded sweeter than the resounding nothing she heard right then. She couldn't relax though. Despite no sign of any drones, the hairs on her neck stood up. The girl wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the women's intuition so many people spoke of. Perhaps she was on edge. Perhaps she knew better than to think they'd be so lucky that the drones were finally leaving them alone.

Hawke continued to watch the forest like a…hawk, and Rachel was about to ask what was wrong, when he grabbed her arm. "We have to go. _Now_."

"What's wrong?"

The words had barely left her lips when the muffled sound of machinery caught her ear. It was no drone. Something very big, mechanical, and pissed off was coming their way. The deep, guttural rumbling caused the ground to vibrate. She didn't need to be told twice. "Right. Time to go."

**S. Harrison St, Esslingen, Sonderbarkeit, Omega Land**

The team gathered around the marks left in the street by the bulky escape tank. They regarded them carefully, any single detail a potential clue leading to the refuge of their target. The small wheels of the tank dug into the soft asphalt, leaving a very easily trail to follow. It wasn't enough to just follow the small trenches in the road, however. If this entity had a Neotank at their disposal, Team 101 had no intentions of walking up to its front door and knocking: they'd want to locate said entity and monitor it first.

"As far as I can tell," the captain said, "the best place to keep a tank without people noticing would be up in the mountains…probably near some military instillation. Beyond that, I've got nothing."

"Makes sense." The woman replied. "People aren't going to ask questions about tanks being kept at a base."

"They might if they are Sonderbarkeit tanks in A.N. controlled territory." The oldest man offered.

"That leaves an area that falls outside of A.N. jurisdiction, or a secluded location that the AN doesn't pay much attention to." Mr. Cross concluded.

The group thought in silence for a moment. They were familiar with most Sonderbarkeit installations in Omega Land. Only a few fit that description, but it would still be a lot of traveling to check each possible location.

As they thought, a man came out of his home walked towards a mail box. Noticing the group standing by the marks in the road, he called out to them. "You guys still investigating this scene? I thought you were done here already."

They turned towards him. Sensing an opportunity, the older man replied. "Just a few loose ends to finish up. You mind answering some questions?"

"I've already told you people everything I know!" the resident protested.

"We do apologize for the inconvenience." The captain said. "But as my colleague mentioned: we've got a little unfinished business here. We'd get out of your hair faster if you'd just give us a quick rundown of what happened. If you saw anything, that is."

"Saw anything? _Saw_ anything? I saw a damned Neotank try to run me over! I had to jump out of the way to keep from getting killed by the crazy driver! It was so close, I could see the letters on the side of it!"

The four looked exchanged looks before turning back to the resident. "What letters?" the woman asked.

"Lemme see…I think it was C, A…er, what were the last two…" he pondered. "Hm…I think the other was a W. Can't remember the last one. Anyway, those letters were painted on the side of it"

"Thank you for your cooperation." Mr. Cross replied.

"Yeah yeah, try to remember that this time, eh? I don't like cops hanging around my house."

The four walked over to a car and got in. "C, A, W." the oldest said. "What's it mean?"

Mr. Cross rubbed his chin. "Hard to say. Could be some kind of acronym."

The captain opened the car's glove box and pulled out a map of Sonderbarkeit territory in Omega Land. "Perhaps. Could also be some kind of code or classification prefix." He opened the map and looked it over, with the girl leaning forward in the back seat to see it. If they were going to be checking multiple secluded bases, they'd need to plan the most time efficient route to do so as quickly as possible.

The girl's eyes traced a large motorway from the neighborhood they were in to different places they might try looking. In doing so, her eyes stopped when they saw 'Ca.' "What's this?" she said pointing to a small town.

"Calw?" the Captain replied. "Just a village as far as I know."

"Calw…Calw…didn't there used to be an old army base there?" Mr. Cross thought out loud.

"'Used to' being the key words." The Captain answered. "It's been decommissioned for quite some time."

"True." Mr. Blue said. "But it's secluded, and it's a military base. Perhaps the man saw 'Calw' on the side of the tank."

"Maybe." The Captain said. "But that's quite a leap to make, going from C, A, W, to a small village with a retired military base."

"It's worth checking out." Ms. Gaze stated. "We'd have to go there anyway. Might as well make it the first stop. If it's a dead lead, we've lost nothing."

"Nothing but time." The Captain muttered, thinking to himself. After several seconds, he nodded. "Okay. We poke around Calw first. If we don't find anything, we move on to the next likely hideout."

**KSK Base, Calw, Sonderbarkeit, Omega Land**

The last stretch of her journey through the dense forest was a blur of drones, foliage, gunfire, sweat, blood, and fear. With drones closing in, ammo running out, and muscles pushed to the limit, Rachel could only attribute her survival to adrenaline and the sweet music that was Gustav's machine gun. All she could remember was running down the small road leading to the base's main gate and ducking just before an angry swarm of lead filled the air and tore through the pursuing drones like angry locusts through a wheat harvest.

Even now, hours later, she could feel the miles and the hours of her journey. Fatigue smothered her like a blanket, and there was no doubting she'd be sore when she woke up. That didn't bother her, though. Pressing down on her more than physical exhaustion ever could was the vice that gripped her mind. Backed against the unyielding wall of what had taken place, the chilling inevitability of what was yet to come wedged her mind into a state of euphoric disbelief. Had she really spent a week in the Black Woods? Did she really eat spiders, snakes, and wild fruits? Right now, it was difficult to say.

She closed her eyes and tried to force out of her mind the creeping anxiety of her real mission. Rachel had chosen this road, and she'd walk down it wherever it led. She only hoped she didn't get hit by a bus on the way.

**CO's Office, KSK Base, Calw**

Hawke set down his smartphone after receiving another message from some unnamed associate reporting on the safety certain Allied Nations officials. There wasn't much he could do now, other than get this upcoming mission over with as soon as possible. _Things will be better after this mission_. He thought. _That, or they'll be much worse._

He turned back to a map of the region, and continued to review the plan. If anything went wrong, his future would be tricky to say the least. The mission _had _to succeed; otherwise his organization and he would die fast and quiet, and _that_ was simply unacceptable. He circled the LZ and location of the objective; then ran his finger along different possible routes between the two. The man had to make sure he had solid contingencies in place. With a mind weighted down with responsibilities, he began running different scenarios through his head.

**Stellaran Headquarters, Int'l Zone India-17, Omega Land**

Max, Sonja, Sasha, and Javier stepped out of the transport helicopter they had spent the last hour riding in and onto the grounds of Stellara's largest installation in Omega Land. A man wearing a grey Allied Nations uniform was quick to greet them. "Welcome to Omega Land. It's an honor and privilege to have you here, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"So do I." Sasha said, glumly. "And you are?"

"Captain Bauer of Allied Nations Peacekeeping Task Force 17. I've been recently put in charge of the investigation."

Max eyed him over. "Where's Sami 'n Jake?"

"They haven't arrived yet. They're due in about three hours. Let me show you to your quarters."

"Actually, I'd like to get a head start on things." Max said. "Lemme see your notes on the case."

Taken aback, he looked a Max with mild surprise. "Don't you want to settle in and wait for the others?"

"This is about as settled as I'm going to get so long as Rachel's missing. The sooner we find her, the sooner we're out of your hair."

"If that's what you want…"

"If it wasn't, I wouldn've asked. Now take me to your office 'n show me what you've found out so far."

"Right this way, please." Bauer said, heading towards the building.

They headed into the building and took an elevator to the third floor. Once there, Bauer took them to a room with several tables covered in papers and laptops with AN officials all around. Some skimmed through documents while others made phone calls to other agencies.

"As you can see," Bauer said, gesturing towards the bustling activity, "there's no shortage of notes to look at."

"Good." Max said, heading over to the table, A.N. personnel moving out of his way. "I'll need somethin' to do while we wait for the rest of the task force."

Bauer gave a defeated sigh. "If you insist. If you need something, I'll be in my office." The man headed through a door at the far end of the room and sat down. _Damn he's insistent. If he's going to butt in like this, it might complicate things._ Bauer needed to handle the Rachel situation delicately, which wouldn't be easy with Max bulldozing his way around.

**Conference Room, KSK Base, Calw**

"Pay attention, as time is not on our side." Hawke said, sitting at the head of a conference table; a map of Omega Land right in front of him. Rachel sat just to his right, with Lash across the old oak table from her. Hawke pointed to a circle. "Your landing zone will be the Hildesheim Forest just south of the Amtsberge Mountains. You'll make your way North, at meet with a contact in an old, bombed-out church in the foothills. He's been surveying the area of operations and will update you on what to expect from that point onwards. Assuming there are no major changes in our strategy, you will head northeast up into the mountains until you reach an abandoned warehouse near the Staubfall waterfall."

Hawke produced an aerial photograph of the facility and laid it on the table. It was the type of place that immediately conjured the word "compound" in a person's mind. Three large warehouse buildings formed a line perpendicular to the river leading to the Staubfall. In front of the first one, a fourth warehouse sat next to a group of smaller buildings: presumably the command post, barracks, and a hangar that either housed tanks or helicopters. In addition to four docks on the river, the facility boasted a helipad, outer wall, watchtowers, and a comm. Tower sitting on a hilltop about five hundred meters to the south. "As of now, your means of entry will be through a grate in the outer wall leading into this dock area. You'll have to reach the gatehouse on the river bank and open the gate to get through, and infiltrate from the loading docks into this storage warehouse." He said, pointing to the warehouse closest to the river docks. "From there, you will make your way to this building here: the administration building. My intelligence indicates the most likely hiding place for Von Bolt is in the basement of that office building. Make your way down to the basement level. If you don't find him, snoop around and see if you can find where he went. If you do, I leave to your discretion what happens next. Any questions?"

Rachel shook her head. The plan was laid out before her, the future staring her in the face. It was too late to back out now, no matter how bad she wanted to…and she _really _wanted to. That was not who she was, though. She did not shirk from responsibility: in fact welcomed a challenge far more than she bargained for. Should the worst happen, at least she'd die a soldier's death. In the end, that's all she could hope for. _Wish not so much to live long as to live well_.

"Good." Hawke said, checking his watch. "The time has come, Rachel. This is one of the most important missions you may ever undertake. KSK Operation 587 is underway. The 'Quintessential Mission' has begun."

**KSK Base Perimeter Fence, Calw**

The Captain and his team stood quietly outside the facility, watching for any sign of life. As dawn broke, the place remained a silent as it had the minute they arrived. "Still no sign of life." He said, looking through his finderscope. "How much longer will you insist on waiting? This place is clearly deserted."

"You don't say." Mr. Cross said, tapping a bullet-ridden drone with his boot.

"Like I said before: they must be remnants of an automated defense system."

"An automated defense system that has operated for years without repair or calibration." Mr. Blue said. The team captain merely shrugged.

"Think whatever you want. This is a waste of time. Can we move on to the next place now? They aren't here."

No sooner had he finished speaking had the roar of jet engines cut through the forest air. After a few seconds, a black aircraft shot towards the sky with blinding speed.

"Not here, eh?" Mr. Cross said. "Well, thanks to your hesitance, they aren't anymore."

"Losing your edge, captain?" the girl said. "You wouldn't have let a target get away so easily before."

"We can worry about me 'losing my edge' later. Now we need to find where that jet is going and who all is on board. Let's check the administration building."

The team carefully made its way towards the structure, looking out for any security systems they might encounter. Upon reaching it, they entered and split up to search the derelict office building. Mr. Cross headed up to the top floor while the captain went into the basement. The other two began looking around the remaining floors, keeping an eye out for any clues to the jet's destination.

The team captain looked at the basement, taking in the sights. A series of clocks set to different time zones hung on the wall, and a layer of dust covered multiple workstations like an old blanket. He ran his finger along a desktop and examined the fine greyish powder that gathered on it as a spark of anger rose inside of him.

It was a disgrace, such a facility being left to rot. How many promising recruits had populated its barracks? What wartime innovations had been pioneered within these halls? It may have seemed strange, but the captain believed that every building had a legacy. What stories could this place tell? He shook his head. Now, it was dying of old age; a forgotten relic of a country that had laid everything on the table and rolled Snake-Eyes. "Here's to you, old man." He whispered as he headed back up the stairs.

Meanwhile, the girl walked into a large dining hall that probably entertained high ranking officers who visited the facility. Hanging up at the far end of the wall was a large photograph of what seemed to be a rainforest. Still, something about it seemed odd. Intrigued, she approached the image. Standing only a few feet away from it, she noticed a small plaque that read "Platoon Zero." She took a closer look at the picture, taking special notice of any human-like features. A smile formed on her face as she started to see infantry men. They were cleverly disguised and impeccably camouflaged, but she could see the occasional face, or legs. Just as she was about to leave, she noticed a woman hiding in a tree with a sniper rifle. Despite being up in the branches, she was by far the hardest to spot. Just a few feet higher was a man looking through binoculars. Though it was tough to make out, his jawline, build, and relative size reminded her of the team captain. She shrugged and turned away. Deciding to get back to work, she headed out of the dining hall and started checking other rooms.

The man from Blue Moon approached a set of large windows looking out towards the rest of the facility. Across a bailey, he could see a hangar with its door open. He squinted, trying to make out the dark image inside the shed. He couldn't see much, but the object seemed spherical. A matte black outer shell absorbed what little light filtered down on to it, but it looked as though he were looking at an attack vehicle of some kind. It might have been a Neotank, but he wasn't going to make any assumptions. He blinked slightly as a glint of sunlight off of something flashed in his eyes. After giving the hangar another look, he headed off to search a storage closet.

Mr. Cross wasted little time in his search, eager to finish the assignment quickly. The first logical place to look was the CO's office, which was where he started his search. The door was locked, but offered little resistance to his boot. His intuition had paid off too, as a map of Omega Land laid on a desk with a notepad beside it. A few different points were marked on it, with corresponding notes on their respective significance. With a smile, he switched on his radio. "Meet me at the CO's office, everyone. I think I've found where our little birdie flew off to."

**Tank Shed, KSK Base**

Gustav's optical receptor detected what seemed to be slight movement. Having been ordered to "keep an eye on the place," the tank remained vigilant and constantly scanned the area for any sign of foreign objects or personnel. The tank zoomed in to the suspected movement. Though the glass in the window obscured its vision, it could make out a humanoid figure in the window. The machine considered the implications of a faint human image in a window. After all, Gustav had been scolded many times by his master for "wasting her time." Still, she had been insistent on his reporting anything out of the ordinary. Firing up his comm system, he prepared to transmit the image for her examination. She'd know what to do. Maybe.

**Amtsberg Mountains, Nearby Airspace**

Everyone sat in quiet anticipation as the aircraft made its way towards the drop zone. There were no words to be spoken: everyone knew their role. Her nerves were threatening to act up, but she kept them in check. So long as she followed through with this, Hawke would keep an eye on those she cared about. The girl had questioned on more than one occasion whether Hawke's threat was legitimate or if it was just something he said to get her on board, but she ultimately decided the risks weren't worth it.

Hawke approached her with a serious face. "It's time." The aft ramp lowered and chilled air roared through the cabin. She took a deep breath and stood up. She walked over to the opening and stepped on the ramp. A glance down showed the majestic peaks and dense woodland that made up the zone of operations. With a final nod to Hawke, she dove off of the ramp and into the open sky.

Cold air cut through her like a knife as her jumpsuit flapped wildly. She could hear the rushing wind, and watched as the ground grew closer and closer. After several minutes of free-falling, she checked the altimeter attached to her suit and pulled the release cord for her parachute. After a sharp jerk, she drifted downwards into the arboreal ocean beneath her.

**On Board the **_**Reichsadler**_

Hawke watched Rachel plummet into the vast green abyss before walking to the cockpit and sitting down beside Lash. Her smarthphone was ringing and she set the autopilot for the jet before checking the message.

"What is it?" Hawke asked.

"Dunno. Something from Gustav."

He looked at her. "Something wrong?"

She read over the message and noticed a file attachment. "Huh. It says he saw someone inside the base headquarters."

"What? That can't be right."

"Got a video taken from his recorder." She said, playing it and handing the phone to Hawke.

He watched closely, as Gustav zoomed in to a window pane. Obscured by sunlight glare, a faint human image bled through the glass. After a few minutes, the figure moved and sunlight glinted off of its chest in a rough cross-like shape. There was no denying that someone was poking around the old compound: the real questions were who they were and why they were there.

"You want Gustav to deal with them?"

Hawke considered that for a moment. It was definitely a liability, but then again he wasn't sure he wanted this person knowing they were on to him. Besides, he wasn't sure they'd even find anything of value. As far as he knew, everyone in Omega Land knew the KSK base was shut down. If they managed to snag any "juicy" intel, it was likely going to be a few years out of date at the very least. "No. Let them dig around if they want. They won't find anything. Right now, we have bigger worries to deal with."

A lot hung in the balance of this mission. He wouldn't allow any distractions, even someone looking around the old base. He glanced out the windshield in the cockpit at the vast woods below. Rachel had her work cut out for her. It was going to be interesting to see how she handled it. Very interesting indeed.

**Authors Notes**

****Finally got back from my trip to Jordan, and even found time to work on this while I was there. Hopefully, I'll be able to update regularly...though now that I've said that it probably won't happen xD. As usual, leave any feedback you have and thanks for reading.

~Ghost


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